Hermione
by Sweethoneytwilight
Summary: A retelling of the Harry Potter series, what if Hermione was a pure blood spy?
1. Lyra

This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by J.K. Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros. Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

I have been wanting to write a pure blood Hermione story for some time now just to see how different it would be to have Hermione not be as everyone thinks she is or be as people always assume she is. The summary is basically an alternative reality where Hermione's real name is Lyra. She is sent to Hogwarts to spy on Harry by her uncle in order to find information of the Lord Voldemort's fall and if he has the magic to be the new Dark Lord. I hope you enjoy the story.

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~December 29, 1981~

"There, there my little Dragon," Narcissa said trying to calm the wailing child, "Mum's here, mum's here."

She picked the infant up from the crib and held him firmly in her arms, rocking him back to sleep. Such a beautiful baby her son is, blond hair like his father, gray eyes like his father... his father who is not there with them at the moment.

Lucius was away on missions, throughout most of the year. Whenever he would get ready to leave she would kiss him as if it were her last and tell him to come home safely. It didn't matter what happened or what he did as long as he came home and joined her in bed since she has been laying cold and alone in their marriage bed in her husband's absence.

She knew he was asking for trouble when he joined the ranks of the Dark Lord's honored Death Eaters. Of course at the time no one had a choice, join or die was practically their slogan even if they didn't really say it out loud, but it was implied and enacted mercilessly.

Now, he is out again, looking for information. There had been word that their lord had fallen, defeated by the hands of an infant child no older than her son.

_Such absurd ideas people come up with,_ Narcissa thought.

She was a bit happy, although she would never admit it out loud. Did she agrees to the Dark Lord's belief and ideas if pure blood supremacy? Yes. But to enact it in such a manner was barbaric and unsophisticated for a wizard of his standing. Not that she knows anything about politics. The witch never wants to be involved with such issues. It was just her opinion.

The witch breath a sigh of relief when she felt her Draco fall back to sleep. Ever so gently she places the slumbering baby back in his bassinet. She will not place her son in her bed with her, no matter how much she wants him to fill the emptiness. Her healer once told her that children are susceptible to the emotions of others around them. So no, he will remain in his room because tonight she cannot sleep and Narcissa did not want Draco near her for too long in fear that he can sense her depression and become ill.

A terrible feeling has recently overcome the witch and she has been having nightmares as of late, visions of horror, faceless people dying slowly, reaching their arms out to her for help. In some dreams they were pointing at her accusingly, the faceless people, as they scream and groan in agony. In another, she dreamed she was trapped in a dark corner and they were crawling in the muddy ground slowly advancing towards her. Then one grab hold of her leg...

She would wake up shaken with fear and reach beside her to find that Lucius was not there, he was gone like he was gone the night before, on missions. Narcissa never told another of her dreams, especially not Bellatrix. Her sister would cackle at her and tease her for being weak. She can already imagine Bella sing "_Scared, poor wittle Cissy having nightmares_!" and hop circles around her, pulling at her hair. One would think she would grow up after having her baby but no. She's just like how she was before, a mean bully. Narcissa loves her sister dearly but sometime she can be really irritating.

The reason why she has not told Lucius about the dreams is because she is afraid of his reaction and words. He might scold her for thinking such nonsense and dismiss her coldly, though he has never done that to her before but there is always a first time for everything. Because of her nightmares, the witch has taken to having a house elf or two sleep at the foot of her bed. In case the dreams were a warning and she were to be attack. The only time the house elves are not with her is when she is with Lucius, since he would certainly protect her.

"Narcissa,"

The witch turned around at the familiar sound of her husband's voice. Gasping with joy, she runs to embrace him, not at all disconcerted by the small bundle he was carrying in his arms under his robes. Lucius returns her embrace with his free arm and kisses her lips.

"Is it true?" she was almost afraid to ask, "the rumors?"

"I'm not sure of it myself," he said, which wasn't a good sign, normally her husband knows everything. "The Lestranges are out looking for traces of the Dark Lord. They believe the Order has him." He informed her, "told me to watch her until they get back." he pulled his robes aside to reveal a drowsy little witch with hooded eyes.

"Hello auntie Cissy," the little dark haired witch said with a smile.

"Oh, come to auntie my little Lyra," Narcissa took her niece from her husband's arms and draped the little witch across her chest. "Were you a good girl for your uncle?" she asks patting the two-year-old's back.

"I was," she replies, her voice clear without the stumble in it like most toddlers her age.

Such an intelligent witch her niece is, only two-years-old and already able to speak so clearly and understand the adults around her. This only proves what their ancestral fathers have been saying all along, pure bloods are far superior than any other lowly creatures among the Wizardry world.

"Dreadful weather out there," Lucius said, brushing away imaginary dust off the shoulder of his robes, even if he had not went outside the entire day.

"Let's get to bed, it's late."

"May I play with Draco first?" the little witch asks.

"Sorry love, Draco is already asleep," The witch said, then seeing her niece disappointment she added, "but you may play with him tomorrow."

Her niece's face brightens as she hugs her neck.

"Good night uncle Lucius, auntie Cissy," she said after they took her into the bedroom they usually reserved for her whenever she visits.

* * *

"What's the matter auntie Cissy?"

"Nothing sweetie," Narcissa said forcing a smile, clearly the child wasn't convince but Narcissa was glad Lyra didn't press the matter.

"When's mum and dad coming home?" she asked to change the subject.

"When they are done with their work." the witch answered, which was partly true.

"Don't you like staying with us?" Lucius asks

"No," she replied, looking longingly at her plate, "daddy normally lets me sit on his lap whenever we eat breakfast."

"Ice cream!" Draco shouted, disturbing the quiet meal.

"No Draco," his father said, "it's too early."

"ICE CREAM!" the child shouted louder, banging his fists on the table.

"Can't we just give him a little bit," his mother said, wanting to please her son.

"Narcissa," Lucius said calmly, "if we let him have his way now, he'll come to think he can have everything he wa –" before the wizard can finish his sentence his son was already eating a bowl if ice cream with a large smile on his face.

The wizard frowned at his wife.

"It will do them no good to spoil the boy, only make him arrogant." he said to her.

"Mummy's home!" Bellatrix's voice echos through the dinning room.

"Mummy! Daddy!" the little witch hopped off her seat and ran to hug her parent's legs, since it had been three days since she last saw them.

"Hello my little owl," her uncle said from behind her parents.

"Good morning uncle Rabastan, uncle Barty," she greeted them polity and they greeted her in return.

"Miss me?" her father said, picking her up and put her on his lap as he took his seat at the table followed by the others.

"Yes daddy, where did you go?"

"We went to visit some old friends of ours." her mother answered for him.

"For three days?" her daughter asked with a pout.

"Would have stayed longer but I couldn't stop thinking about my little witch at home," her father said, playing with her dark locks.

His daughter smiled at his words.

"Your friends must be really fun," their daughter said, "or else you wouldn't have played with them for so long."

"Yes, they were very... entertaining." her mother smiled down at her.

Narcissa suddenly feels her skin crawl. Her sister and her in-laws are so twisted. How they speak of torturing and killing people with such lightness to their two year old daughter who doesn't understand half of what they are saying is beyond her.

"Hurry and finish your breakfast so we can go home."

The little witch enjoyed her meal much more with her parents there with her.

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"Mummy, daddy she won't stop crying!" the eight year old witch complained to her mother, her hair flaring red, annoyed with her cousin's crying.

"There, there love," Andromeda Tonks said to her sobbing niece. She picked her up and rocked her in her arms.

"It's not true! It's not true!" Lyra screamed over and over again kicking and punching.

Andromeda placed her back down.

"What did you say to her?" Ted Tonks asked his daughter.

"Nothing," the witch muttered, looking down at her feet and fidgeting with her fingers.

Her parents stared down at her, by the of color of her hair it was obvious she was lying.

"Nymphadora Tonks," her mother said sternly.

"All I said was she was going to be staying with us now." she said quickly, "damn hair," she muttered under her breath. Because of her inability to control her Metamorphmagus magic she constantly has to focus really hard to stop her hair from changing color and letting her parents know if she is lying or not.

"And?" Ted ask, having a feeling there was more to the story.

"I said she won't be seeing her parents anymore."

"I WANT MY MUMMY AND DADDY!" the little witch screamed.

"Lyra, you are going to staying with us from now on," Andromeda said softly.

"Your parents... your parents..." Ted replied, cringing, trying to think of a way to tell his niece without make her cry even more.

"Your parents were sentenced to Azkaban for torturing – "

"Nymphadora," her father said quickly, giving her a look, indicating her to stop talking.

While covering her ears and screaming for her parents, Lyra did not hear a word said by the witches and wizards standing around her, claiming to be her family. If they were her family, wouldn't she have met them before? Crawling into her corner and continuing to cry she wondered where were the family she knew was? Her parents and Aunts and Uncles?

Not long ago she was home with her parents and uncles. They were playing with her in the drawing room, suddenly her father told her uncle Barty to take her. He took her into a secret passage on the wall and carried her away. Behind them she could hear her parents, uncle, and many others shouting and objects breaking. He apparated them to her uncle Lucius's house where he gave her to her Aunt Cissy and said he will go see what happened and be back soon. Her uncles nodded to each other before the one left.

She didn't stay with her Aunt Cissy for long, two men came in wearing red robes, very red robes. They said they were taking her and her uncle away, away from her Aunt. Lyra, more curious then scared didn't say a word and listened, the men in red said they were taking her to her family but her Aunt Cissy said she was her family. They didn't listen, they only picked her up and took her away, away from her aunt. Her uncle Lucius was beside her, he told her to be a brave girl and act the proper pure blood that she is.

Lyra nodded and held her head high. Remaining calm, she did not react when the man in red lead her uncle away. She did not react when the man in red apparated her to a small house and knocked on the door. She did not react when the lady answered the door and took her in. She did not react when the lady, who slightly resemble her mother, smiled at her and said her name, offering her sweets and various treats. She merely went to a selected corner and sat there waiting for her parents to come pick her up like they normally do.

Lyra did not speak to any of the occupants in the house. Her mother and father told her never to talk to strangers unless her parents had introduced them to her. They taught her to not talk to strangers no matter how kind they were. "People lie," her uncle Rabastan once told her. "and they receive some type of sick pleasure in watching you be deceive under their gaze," he said in a low voice that made her shuttered.

Lyra glanced at the woman, the man, and their daughter. They are twisted, pretending to be nice to her, probably laughing their heads off behind her back so she would sit with them at their dinner table, talk to them, sleep in the bedroom they said they had for her. No! She would not give them the joy of seeing her react to their false smiles and fake kindness. She will stay in her corner and wait for her parents; they will come for her soon. They will and when they do they will be disappointed in her if she gave into them, these strangers.

But it has been sixteen days, she counted, and her parents were not there yet. The little witch's heart began to ache of it's own accord. She sensed she was growing weaker by the day, her days waiting in her corner. _'When would they come? When will her parents come for her?'_ she thought.

"Why are you always in this corner?" the girl with the odd hair asked,

Lyra didn't respond.

"If you're waiting for your parents don't bother."

Lyra stood her ground.

"They're not coming back, you won't be seeing them again, the trial already passed."

Lyra bit her bottom lip.

"They were sentenced for life in Azkaban."

"YOU'RE LYING!" Lyra screamed and cried.

She cried for what the witch with the odd hair said, what she was implying and for being weak and reacting to them. They must be laughing at her now. These strangers in this house.

Lyra cried to herself, _'oh how my parents would be disappointed, along with my uncles and aunt.'_ She cried for failing them.

"It's not true! It's not true!" Lyra screamed over and over again."I WANT MY MUMMY AND DADDY!"

She cried until she lost her breath and fainted. She was weak...

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"Malnutrition, unkempt hair, wearing the same robes she left my house in – such great care you have been taking of her. Less than a month, right in St. Mungos." Lucius sneered sarcastically.

"She wouldn't let us touch her," Ted argued.

Lyra would bite and struggled every time any of them so much as tried to approach her, let alone touch her.

"Andromeda, I was speaking with you not filth, answer me will you?" Lucius ignored the muggle born and addresses his sister in law.

"Stop it this instance," Narcissa commanded, "Lyra is in hospital and all you can do is argue. She could have died."

Lucius's face tightens at her words. He was quite fond of the girl even if she wasn't his real blood. She is a bright and determined girl, never giving in. Such strong spirits for one her age, earning his respect.

At that moment, the Healer who had been seeing to Lyra opened the door to the waiting room.

"How is she?" Andromeda and Narcissa asked, rushing to the healer.

"She is in a very bad condition." the healer said.

Lucius scoffed, well of course she is in bad condition, having stayed with blood traitors and mud bloods. The wizard was already devising a plan to call his sister-in-law and her husband's child care into questioning and convince the Ministry to have Lyra put under his and Narcissa's care. It will be simple with Lyra in St. Mungos.

"Take her," Andromeda muttered after the healer left.

"What?" Narcissa asked, unable to hear her sister speak. She was speaking far too low.

"She can stay with you." Andromeda held her head high.

Lyra was suffering, she did not want to stay with them. Her protest was clear. Andromeda held back stinging tears. Lyra doesn't want to live with them. She had tried her best but the child does not want her as a mother. She does not want Ted as her father, she does not want Nymphadora as a sister.

"You can take her." Andromeda said.

Lucius stared at the witch, astonish by her words. Before at the custody trial she stood her ground against him, never weaving, not once. How determined she was to have the child stay with her, speeches upon speeches of how she will provide for Lyra, love her unconditionally, give her a real family, a proper education, etc.. but now, she gave her up willing.

Lucius and Narcissa exchange gazes, it was already decided without words. Lyra was theirs.


	2. Durmstrang

After Lyra was discharged from St. Mungos, she moved in with the Malfoys. She was silent and seemed to be withdrawn when they told her that her parents were off working again, but this time they wouldn't be back for awhile. She calmed down once hearing this but as the months went by, Lucius and Narcissa would catch Lyra looking at them in an odd manner. Her brown eyes seeming watery yet not, then she would look away. It was as if she knew they were lying to her but she never said a word of accusation.

One day, while Narcissa and Lyra were strolling about in Diagon Ally, a reporter spotted them and took a picture of Lyra. He raced to her side and asked her if she had visited her parents in Azkaban yet. Narcissa was so enraged at the reporter's audacity to ask a two-year-old child such a question that she pulled out her wand and hexed him before she apparated them home. The witch picked up her niece and explained to her that the wizard reporter was a deranged man, and that she should not listen to anything he said. Lyra merely nodded and kissed her aunt's cheek.

The next few days the Malfoys were plagued by owls from reporters requesting to see Lyra and ask her questions. Lucius declined interviews of any kind and complained to the Ministry about the reporters' harassment when one of them had tried to sneak into their manor to possibly kidnap her. The Ministry in turn, issued a magical restraining order against all those who had tried or would try to approach and harm Lyra because she is far too young to understand the world around her, and might become traumatized by the bombardment from wizards and witches who would want to make a profit out of her and her story.

Having her photograph on the front page of the Daily Prophet, everyone recognized the young witch as the daughter of the murderous Lestrange couple. Lucius' strategy to stop this once and for all was by keeping his niece away from public view. The Malfoys kept her inside the manor and, occasionally, took her to far off isolated vacation spots where no one would recognize her.

"Must we send her so far away?" Narcissa asked her husband.

"She cannot go to Hogwarts." Lucius said, "You know what will happen. The other children will ridicule and tease her non-stop, some might even attack her on the train if they find out who she is."

"What about Beauxbaton?" the witch suggested, "We can move to our other manor there, the one really close to the school, so we can be together. Then Draco can attend it too - we'll be able to see them both every day after school and on weekends."

"You can't keep the children with you their entire lives." He said, they hadn't even started school yet and she's already having separation anxiety.

"But Durmstrang is much too far away, what if she needs us?" she persisted, "Why must you make her start so early - she suppose to be in the same year as Draco."

"Narcissa," he grabbed hold of her shoulders, "Durmstrang will groom Lyra into a fine witch and I want her to start early so she can see what it's like to be in school without Draco for one year. They have the rest of their lives to be together. At this point, I believe that they need some distance before they begin to grow tired of one another and resent each other."

"And it has nothing to do with you wanting to make connections abroad?" Narcissa asked her husband. She knew him far too well to not see passed his latest scheme.

***********

~September 1, 1990

"Owl me when you get to your room to tell me if you're doing alright there." Narcissa told Lyra, pressing her niece's face to her chest.

"Honestly Narcissa, you'll suffocate the poor girl." Lucius drawled. "And owling once a week is enough."

Narcissa ignored her husband's comment as she continued to hug her niece.

"Daddy, daddy," Draco whispered, pulling at his father's robes, "she's not going to do this when I go to school is she?"

"I'm afraid so." The wizard replied and inclined his head, gazing at his wife's tear stained face, "Maybe even worse..."

"What?!"

"What's the matter Draco?" Lyra asked her little cousin.

"Nothing." he said quickly, not wanting to get in trouble.

"Come Draco," his mother said, holding her hand out to him, "come properly say goodbye to your cousin. You won't be seeing her until her birthday party."

Witches, Lucius Malfoy thought, such emotional creatures.

And, for the last time, he thanked Merlin that Lyra did not inherit his wife's emotional personality or her mother's, especially her mother. He could only imagine how it would be to raise a younger version of his deranged sister-in-law.

Draco looked up at his father and gave him the do-I-have-too look. When his father nodded Draco reluctantly stomped his way to his cousin, said a lazy bye and tried to return to his father's side, but his father poked his back with the head of his cane. The gesture was for him to go back and say it like he meant it. Draco stepped forward, between his distressed mother and expecting cousin.

"Goodbye Lyra." He said with the saddest expression he could muster.

"Goodbye Draco." Lyra said.

Draco nodded and stepped back to his father's side.

"Show off..." Draco muttered under his breath while he gazed up at his father, who was busy admiring his cousin's calm and reserved demeanor.

His father was always scolding him for every little thing he did wrong, but with her his father was always nodding in approval. It was obvious to the young wizard that, in his father's eyes, Lyra could do no wrong. Draco despised her for that, and stealing his parent's attention from him as well. But not anymore, she'll be away, at school. He'll have all their attention to himself now.

Lyra is the only one in her year that was not with tears and boogers on her face, nor was she screaming, crying, or begging them not to leave, like her would be schoolmates. She was demonstrating mature behavior, taught to her by her proper pure blood upbringing."I'll send you all of your favorite sweets every day." Narcissa replied before the horn was blown, signaling the parents to leave the ship's deck.

Narcissa kissed her niece one last time before she released her. She took her husband's arm as she walked down the steps to the pier. Lyra stepped to the edge of the ship, rested her hand on the rail, and slightly lifted her small hand to wave good bye to her family. Her schoolmates beside her waved frantically at their parents, with pink faces from the chilling weather, wailing their goodbyes.

Lyra stepped back as an older student, who introduced himself as Adam, called them into the forecastle to show them their quarters. They were made to walk in rows of two because of the narrow hall, standing side-by-side waiting for further orders. The witch observed her schoolmates as their rooms were assigned. He would call them two by two in alphabetical order. When the students came forward, he would point at a bare area in the wall in the hall and tell them to choose a password quietly. After a password was selected a symbol would appear on the wooden wall, and Adam would tell them to walk right in. Two-by-two students disappeared into the wooden frame.

"Lestrange!" the wizard read the list, "Lekas!"

Lyra came forward followed by a brown haired witch with thick black spectacles that made her green eyes appear as if they were about to pop out of her face. She was completely tanned over, an obvious indication of having spent long hours on the beach, possibly on the coastline in her native Greek country, if her last name was any indication.

"Password." he said, pointing at a bare wall.

"Hi! I'm Veralidaine Lekas, and you are?" the witch introduced herself to Lyra.

"Password." Adam interrupted

Veralidaine looked at him and said, "Oh right sorry!" she glanced at the other children awaiting their turn, "Sorry! - password." she turn to Lyra, letting her decide.

Lyra observed the witch up and down, and turned to the wall, "Obelus." She said in a low tone and entered the port hole.

"Obelus?" Veralidaine repeated after she followed Lyra in. "Meaning dagger? Why did you choose that word?"

"I chose Obelus as in a sign used to mark questionable or corrupt text passages." Lyra didn't say any more, not wanting to give the impression that she was insulting the witch in any way by indirectly saying Veralidaine was questionable or corrupt. She just felt like it should be her password.

"Okay," Veralidaine shrugged and went through her luggage that was placed in their room already. "Oh!" she squealed, "You haven't told me your name yet – I'm Veralidaine Lekas."

"Lyra Lestrange." she answered.

"Lestrange, Lestrange. I think I heard of that name before." Veralidaine said, pondering the thought. "Holy cricket!" she breathed. "Aren't your parents –"

"Yes." Lyra answered bluntly, ready for whatever insults the witch would throw at her for having murders for parent.

Veralidaine was silently staring at her like she was an exotic creature which was rarely spotted. In defense, Lyra stared back at her, mirroring her face but with more shock in her eyes, which was a bit difficult considering Veralidaine had aid from her spectacles, while Lyra's face lacked the assistance. The witch's face was completely readable, Lyra saw that the other girl was shocked that's for sure. She also seemed amazed, curious, and blushing? It was hard to tell with her skin so dark, but Lyra somehow managed. After a while Veralidaine became uncomfortable with the staring contest, she closed her eyes and shook her head.

"Sorry." she apologized, looking at her feet and blinking a few time. "It's – it's not that I'm judging you or anything. I – I never met one of you before... and...and...you're so pretty." her face burning redder.

Lyra constructed her face back to normal with skilled ease and said, "It's alright. I'm use to it." she was not insulted the less bit by Anna's emphasis on the word you.

"No! - I mean -" Veralidaine bit her bottom lips, trying to think of some way to redeem herself. "I don't blame you – you're not your parents – you're different -"

"I comprehend what you're trying to say." Lyra said, having no desire to watch the witch squirm under her gaze any longer. "Thank you."

Veralidaine smiled brightly at her words but then her smile faded and her face fell. "I don't think badly of you but... but the others out there might."

"I don't care." Lyra replied, looking through her things.

She pulled out a copy of the Iliad and began to read it. Seeing as Lyra was too busy to pay her any attention, Veralidaine took her large spectacles off and decided to have a quick nap.

"Veralidaine," Lyra shook her, "wake up, we're here."

"Ten more minutes, daddy." Veralidaine groaned.

The witch opened her eyes and squinted at the blurred colors. Lyra handed Veralidaine her spectacles after she finished rubbing her eyes. When she placed them on she gazed at her surroundings as if she didn't know where she was, then she began to cry. "Mommy!

Daddy! Where are you?!" she cried.

Lyra handed her a handkerchief, took a step back and sat on her bed, waiting for the witch to get it out of her system. She took out her copy of the Iliad and began reading from where she left off. It was not as if she was an inconsiderate witch or anything, but she felt that Veralidaine needed to come to terms with the fact that she wouldn't be seeing her parent's everyday anymore, now only seeing them months at a time. Veralidaine was lucky. At least she could still see her parents whenever she wished.

"Sorry for acting this way," Veralidaine sniffed, "I swear I've never done this before... crying so much."

Lyra closed her book and put it away, "Don't worry, everyone cries." she said as she pulled out another handkerchief and helped her wipe her face.

"I must look awful." Veralidaine sniffed.

"Yes, dreadful."

Veralidaine whimpered at her blunt honestly but appreciated the fact that she did not say it in a mean, scolding way. Lyra's tone was calm and relaxed, if she didn't know any better she would think Lyra was giving her a compliment. Veralidaine stared up at her, wondering how she pulled it off so well.

"Come, we'll be late for the welcoming feast." Lyra said, brushing away the last line of tears on Veralidaine's face.

"Okay." Veralidaine nodded and followed Lyra out.

"You're not going to change?" Lyra asked, gesturing to her attire.

Veralidaine looked at Lyra and saw that she had already changed into her school robes. She looked back at her wrinkled school robes, and patted the material down. She still had time to change but decided not to.

"No." she shook her head.

The witches joined the rest of their schoolmates in the castle; Veralidaine was walking behind Lyra, steadying her pace to match hers. She followed her closely through the crowd and by the time they were seated at a table, Lyra was certain that she had unwillingly gained herself a friend.

"Welcome." The headmaster said as he walked up to the podium. "Before we begin the feast I would like you inform the new students about our rules and regulations."

His speech was short and simple, easy for the first years to understand. After the feast was over an older witch and wizard appeared. They introduced themselves to be the head boy and girl and told them to follow them as they give them a tour of the castle. All first year witches follow the head girl, while all first year wizards follow the head boy.

"Durmstrang consists of four floors," the head girl said, leading them through the corridors.

Lyra was about to walk into the corridors with the group, but something caught her eye and made her stop.

"What are you looking at?" Veralidaine asked, taking her spectacles off to clean them.

When she put them back on she saw the carving on the wall and went up to examine it. There, on the wall, was a triangle over a circle with a line going through them.

"What is this?" Veralidaine asked, turning to Lyra for the answer.

"It's his sign," a wizard responded, "Grindelvald's sign..."

Lyra turned around to face a tall wizard with dark hair and eyes. Veralidaine went to stand beside Lyra, all the while staring at the wizard.

"Hey!" the head girl shouted, gesturing them to return to the group.

Lyra walked away without a second glance at the wizard or the carving. Veralidaine turn her head to Lyra and realized she was leaving, the witch ran to catch up.

"What a cutie." Veralidaine mouthed to her.

At the end of the tour Lyra entered her new room with Veralidaine in tow. Their luggage was already there, having been brought in by the school's house elves. Lyra took out another piece of parchment and a quill to write to her aunt to tell her that she had gotten to the school safely.

"Are you sure that's a real spell? Well, it's not very good is it? I've tried a few simple spells myself and they've all worked for me." Veralidaine said smugly.

Lyra looked over at the witches arguing over who was better in Charms, apparently Veralidaine was winning. Charms was their first class on their first day of school. Lyra had awoken early and was the first to have arrived, with Veralidaine right behind her of course. Slowly, the empty class began to fill and students were sitting patiently waiting for their professor to arrive.

"Yes, it's a real spell." the other witch argued, "It didn't work simply because – because I wasn't focused enough."

"Oh?" Veralidaine said

"Watch closely." the witch said, holding her wand up but quickly dropped it on the floor, being startled by their professor who suddenly walked into the room.

"Good morning." He greeted every one. "I am professor Ryes, welcome to you first Charms class." he said looking over his students. "Can anyone tell me, what's the most important thing you must remember when casting a spell?"

Veralidaine hand was the first to fly up.

"Yes you there." He pointed at her.

"Pronunciation, sir." she replied with a smile.

"Good." he said, "and what's next?"

Veralidaine's hand was up again but the professor chose another student to answer. The witch slowly put her arm down in disappointment. Lyra placed her hand over the witch's in an effort to comfort her and lessen her whimpering. Veralidaine smiled toothily at Lyra's gesture and laced her finger with her.

"Wrist movement." A wizard answered.

"Wingardium leviosa is a levitating charm…" the professor began.

"Wingardium leviosa!" Lyra said as her quill floated into the air.

"Wingardium leviosa!" Veralidaine said as her quill floated also.

Those who were able to cast the spell were made to help the others who could. The wizard Lyra was paired with was able to cast the charm within seconds, but Veralidaine is having trouble with her partner.

"Wingardium leviosar!" the witch shouted, flicking her wand.

"Stop, stop, stop!" Veralidaine shouted, frantically waving her hand, "You're going to take someone's eye out." She scolded her.

"I trying me best!" the witch cried.

"I know you are," Veralidaine said in what she thought was a calm tone but it sounded like she was being arrogant. "You're saying it wrong. It's LeviOsa, not LeviosAR!"

"Here let me help." Lyra replied, getting in between the witches.

She did not like the way the witch was glaring murderously at her friend.

* * *

Their next class together was Potions which Veralidaine quickly became their professor's favorite, causing jealousy among her classmates. While the professor left the room to speak to another professor, he left Veralidaine in charge. The witch took to the position given to her and walked about the room inspecting the other students' cauldron, commenting on the colors, if they were wrong or right, and amount of bubbles that the potion should be expelling. She returned to hers and Lyra's cauldron to demonstrate to the class what their boil cure potion should look like.

"As you can see the color is suppose to be ashy green, not dark green," she said, eyeing the cauldron on her far left, "and not light green," she said eyeing another table, "and most definitely not black."

Meanwhile, Lyra poured a jar of dried nettles into the cauldron and told Veralidaine to go get the jar of horned slugs so that they could stew before they put them in. Veralidaine nodded and went to the storage closet. On her way back she tripped and fell, dropping the glass jar and cutting her palms with its shard pieces.

"AAAAAAAAAA!"The witch screamed at the stinging pain of the liquid, used to preserve the slugs, as it leaked into her cuts.

"Episkey!" Lyra shouted, racing to her side, healing the cuts on her hands.

Upon hearing the witch scream, their Potions professor came back into the room.

"Scourgify!" he shouted, cleaning the mess and tending to the injured witch. He praised Lyra for her quick thinking, healing the witch's hands right before the liquid went in to deep, but, to be on the safe side, he sent them off to the hospital wing for a thorough examination.

"Thanks." Veralidaine said to Lyra after they left the hospital wing.

"Don't worry about it." Lyra said and held out her broken spectacles.

"You brought me my spectacles!" the witch reached for them. "It's broken isn't it?" she stated after putting it on.

"Yes."

"Daddy is going to be so mad at me."

"I'll fix them."

"What?" The witch asked, staring at Lyra, but in truth she was staring at an empty space on the witch's right side.

"I'll look for a spell to fix it or do you want a new one?"

Veralidaine thought about it for a moment. "I don't know if I want a new one, I'm quite attached to these… but a new one would be better for my eyes…"

"Then I'll fix these and get you a new one." Lyra said, taking her wand out. "Oculus Reparo!"

In an instant the glasses was repaired and the witch placed them on her face.

The witches returned to the Potions class room, Veralidaine was completely fine, and continued with their potion. Their professor, being cautious, told her to stay seated and not use her hands too much. That being the case, she sat on her stool stirring the potion while Lyra went to retrieve the ingredients.

She waited patiently until the wizard she had been watching went into the closet and followed him in, closing the door behind them and casting a silencing charm.

"Apologize." Lyra said to the wizard.

"What?" He asked turning around to face her, appearing confused.

"Apologize to my friend," Lyra replied simply, "for tripping her earlier."

"She's clumsy and fell on her own." He said. "How are you sure it was me? With that know it all attitudes of hers - practically anyone could be the culprit!"

"I saw you sticking your feet out when she was walking." Lyra said coldly, advancing towards the wizard. "Apologize."

The wizard began to step back, uncomfortable with the way the witch was looking at him.

**************

Veralidaine stirred the potion, waiting for Lyra patiently, when a nameless wizard approached her.

"I'm sorry. I had my foot in the aisle while you were walking and accidentally tripped you. Please accept my apology and let me buy you a new pair of glasses and carry your bag to your next class."

The witch stared blankly at him for a moment. "What?" she asked, he was speaking too fast for her to understand.

The wizard nervously side glanced at the witch who was leaning against the wall, while staring at him with cold eyes. Swallowing an imaginary lump in his throat, he spoke a bit louder. "I'm sorry. I had my foot in the aisle while you were walking and accidentally tripped you. Please accept my apology and let me buy you a new pair of glasses and carry your bag to your next class."

"Al… alright."

In the library, Veralidaine was arguing with yet another witch about the twelve uses of dragon's blood. Meanwhile, Lyra tuned out the conversation in front of her and focused on her writing. A few minutes later the other witch, Lyra didn't bother to catch her name, jumped up from her seat and stumped out of the library in a huff.

"Ly, Ly..." Veralidaine whispered the nickname she gave Lyra, "he's staring at you again."

"So?" Lyra replied without looking up from her paper.

"I think he likes you, been stalking you for weeks now since we meet him on the first day- haven't you noticed how he's always there, like when we get out of class - he's there against the wall, staring down at something when we turn to him."

"Maybe he likes to lean against walls and admire his shoes."

"What about during breakfast. Couldn't you feel his eyes on you - I did and still do, it makes me shutter."

"Maybe he's looking at you."

"No, he's looking at you - definitely you." Veralidaine said with a nod, and then she inclined her, lost in thought, "Want me to go ask him if he likes you?"

"No." Lyra said with no emotion.

"Why nooooot." Veralidaine whined.

"I'm involved."

"What?" Veralidaine said, bolting from her chair and staring at her wide eyed, "YOU HAVE A BOYFRIEND AND YOU NEVER TOLD ME!!"

"Veralidaine," Lyra said calmly, "sit down."

Veralidaine opened her mouth about to protest but decided against it and did as she was told.

"I have a fiancé."

"How?" Veralidaine asked her.

"Arranged marriage."

"There's still such a thing?"

"Yes."

"Who is he? Anyone I know?" Veralidaine asked her shocked altered into excitement.

"No. He's in England."

"What does he look like?"

"Blonde, very blonde."

"Do you have a picture? Can I see it?"

"No."

"Is he the one you've been owling every week and sending you all those presents?"

"No."

"Well that's odd he's your fiancé and he hasn't owled you."

"Never."

"Not once?"

"No."

Veralidaine gazed at her friend puzzled. "What? He is too busy flirting with other witches to write to you?"

"Yes."

"What?! HE'S CHEATING ON YOU?!"

"Not exactly, I know about her, she knows about me."

"Then - then what - I don't understand." Veralidaine stuttered in confusion, and then it turned to anger. "What's her face's name? How dare she try and steal your man when she knows he's involved - that - that home wrecker!"

"You can meet them on Sunday."

"Sunday?"

"My birthday party."

"You're birthday is on Sunday?! And you didn't tell me?!" The witch exclaimed, holding her hand over her heart. "How could you just – just tell me all of these things in one day?!"

Lyra merely shrugged.

***************

Lyra's birthday was on the nineteenth of September, Wednesday, but since it was on a school night, her uncle and aunt chose to throw her party on Sunday. There weren't that many people at Lyra's birthday party, only close family and friends, and none mentioned a word of her parents. Lucius Malfoy made sure they all knew what was expected of them before they could attend the witch's party.

"Where is he?" Veralidaine whispered to Lyra.

The witch turned to gaze at the blonde wizard at the far side of the room. Veralidaine followed her gaze and spotted him immediately.

"Wow you weren't kidding." Veralidaine said staring at Draco, "He's blonde, very blonde and cute, very cute," and then her eye trailed to the brunette beside him, "who is that?"

"Pansy." Lyra answered.

"That's the whore?" she asked, pointing at the witch.

Every one turned to the direction of the witch in the long lavender dress. Veralidaine stood frozen in place, completely mortified.

"More cake?" Lyra asked, covering for her friend's embarrassing outburst. "You want some more cake?"

"Yes…" Veralidaine said quietly, playing along with Lyra's story.

Every one returned to whatever they were doing before the witch's outburst.

"Don't call her that." Lyra said.

"Sorry." Veralidaine said quickly looking down at her feet, feeling more ashamed than embarrassed.

"She's his friend and a guest."

"Yes." Veralidaine answered in a low voice. "I'm sorry."

"Don't do it again."

"Okay, I promise." Veralidaine said, hugging Lyra, happy that she is not upset with her.

*****************

"I think you should give Viktor Krum a chance." Veralidaine said to Lyra one day, "He seems more reliable than that… wizard, and less likely to cheat on you."

"No." was all Lyra said and that was the end of that conversation.

**********

Sorry it took a while to post this… I have no idea where my betas went and had to find a new one.

On the next chapter Lyra I'm thinking of having Lyra transform into Hermione and show what she had to research in order to become a muggle...


	3. Hermione

"What?" Veralidaine exclaimed, bolting from her seat, staring at Lyra in shock, "NO LY, LY, YOU CAN'T! YOU JUST CAN'T GO!" the witch cried.

"Veralidaine, sit." Lyra said, in her usual calm and composed tone.

Veralidaine opened her mouth, about to ask Lyra how she could be so...so calm about this. Didn't their friendship mean anything to her? They had spent their entire first year together, studying in the library, having deep discussions in their room, eating breakfast, lunch, and dinner together. Everything was going so well, and then...and then Lyra just flat out told her that she is transferring to another school? But instead of asking all the questions that were popping in her head, Veralidaine blinked back her tears and did as she was told.

"I am transferring to Hogwarts on my uncle's orders." Lyra finished the sentence she had originallybegun before she was interrupted by the witch's outburst.

After Lyra was done she nodded, indicating that Veralidaine could now speak. Veralidaine stood back up and said, "Ly, Ly how could you be so...so calm about this, didn't our friendship mean anything to you? We have spent their entire first year together, studying in the library, having deep discussions in our room, eating breakfast, lunch, and dinner together, everything was going so well, and then...and then you just flat out tell me that you are is transferring to another school?" Veralidaine finished as she sat back down and took deep breaths. She had said everything that was on her mind in a few short breaths.

Lyra gestured toward the cup of tea in front of Veralidaine, knowing that she would need something to drink after her speech.

"Veralidaine, you mean a lot to me." she answered her question. "I am transferring to Hogwarts by my uncle's orders and I cannot refuse him."

Veralidaine stared at Lyra with watery eyes. She knew that when Lyra said she was going to do something she would do it. "Take me with you..." she begged.

%

Lucius Malfoy silently sat on the wing back chair in his study, contemplating what his niece had asked him. She wanted to take her friend, Veralidaine, to Hogwarts with her. His first response to this would be _no. _From what he had seen of the girl...she wasn't fit for what he has planned. Lyra was the only one who can do this, because he could hardly count on Draco. The presents of the other witch would hinder his niece and put his plans in jeopardy. Lucius turned his gaze to Lyra, about to answer her when she interupped him.

"Before you answer," Lyra said, "I want you to know that if I can't have her with me than I'm not doing it."

Lucius stared down at Lyra in anger, which was a rare emotion he had ever felt towards her. She was always so obedient to him and never gave him any cause to scold her, unlike Draco.

"Very well." Lucius replied. He knew that if he didn't let her have her _friend_, she would not do as he asked.

"Thank you." Lyra said before she excused herself and left the room.

Lyra was met with a tearful Veralidaine, who hopped about the room, and hugged her, after she was told the good news.

"We need new names." Lyra told Veralidaine.

"New names? Why do we need new names for?"

"To start our new life."

Veralidaine stared at Lyra, puzzled by her statement.

"When we go, we willno longer be who we are." Lyra informed her, "In Hogwarts, we will play the parts of witches who have never lived the life that we have lived. The people we know now, we must not know once we step foot on platform 9 3/4."

Veralidaine blinked twice before she nodded. Many questions were spinning in her head, but she dare not ask, for if she were to know the answers to them then Lyra would have already told her.

"I'm not sure what I want my new name to be." Veralidaine said, warming up to the idea of going to a new school and pretending to be someone else. She also loved that Lyra introduced the idea to her by referencing Shakespeare's peom, All the World's a Stage, knowing how much she loves the half blood author's works. "There are so many! Ly, Ly have you thought of a name for yourself yet?"

"No I have not." Lyra answered truthfully. "Let's leave that for later then. I'm going to be a muggleborn, you?"

"You're going to be a muggleborn?"

"Yes."

Veralidaine blinked and asked, "Why?"

"Those at Hogwarts would be more sympathetic if I were a muggleborn and less suspicious."

"Oh." Veralidaine nodded, "I think I want to be a muggleborn like you, because if I go as a pure blood then we might not be able to stay together."

"All right." Lyra said, "If we are both going to be muggleborn then we must do some research on them first."

"Okay!" Veralidaine cheered. She loves studying.

%

Lyra and Veralidaine visited their first muggle store to purchase muggle attire with Lyra's aunt Narcissa. The young witches were excited at the sight of such odd robes, but Narcissa was less than impressed. Not only was the elder witch disgusted by the decor of the shop, but she felt nauseated from what she called "muddy air".

"Look at this place," Narcissa sneered as she looked the shop up and down, "no one is measuring us and none of the sales people are even asking to hold our belongings."

"Aunt Cissy," Lyra said, "do you really want these...people touching you or your things?"

Lyra was training herself to not use the word _Mudblood _or any other offensive words anymore_. _She knew that Mudblood was a hateful word to muggleborn witches and wizards. She would be one of them soon and so she would need to act disgusted whenever she hears the word. Thought it was a hard habit to break, after hearing the term being commonly used ever since she could remember.

"NO!" Narcissa shouted, wrapping her arms around herself and feeling for her wand.

Spending all her life surrounded by negative muggle propaganda, Narcissa was more anxious than she lead on. In truth, she was on the edge of panic, never had she been near so many muggles before or ever.

"Come on Ly, Ly! Let's go look over there!" Veralidaine suggested as she pulled on Lyra's sleeve like a small child.

"All right."

Lyra let Veralidaine lead her to a rack of muggle tops and began looking through it, trying to find one she liked.

"Ly, Ly look, what do you think about this one?" Verlidaine asked as she held out the garment.

"Pretty." Lyra responded and that was all it took for Verlidaine to pull the garment from the rack and decide to purchase it.

Veralidaine continued to search through the rack while Lyra would glance at Narcissa every so often. Lyra was worried about her aunt, somehow a crowd had managed to gather around Narcissa. Lyra noted that her aunt's face was looking paler and paler by the minute. Gazing up, Lyra curiously stared at a pair of large red banners hanging from the ceiling, above the crowd and Narcissa, with the words _FINAL _and _SALE! _written upon them.

Nacissa cringed as she side-stepped to the left to avoid touching a muggle woman, who was walking past her, and then she took a step back to avoid another muggle and then another. A mob was gathering around her.

_**They know! **_Narcissa screamed in her head. _**They know that you're not one of them! They're conspiring to steal your magic this very moment!**_

Pulling out her wand out, Narcissa desperately searched for an exist. Sadly, there weren't any. Taking deep breathes, the witch told herself not to panic. No matter what, don't panic. Being born a pure blood, Narcissa was raised to remain composed at all times, to never show a hint of emotion. After taking a few more deep breaths, Narcissa made her way through the crowd, trying not to make any physical contact with any of them. It was bad enough that they were tainting her new robes. Robes that she would burn as soon as she is home - NO! It would taint her home then. She would have a House elf purchase newer and cleaner robes for her and bring them to the carriage, then burn the ones she has on, after taking a hot bath to wash away the filth. After Narcissa finished her musing she realized that she was still trapped in the crowd. Frustrated, she began pushing the muggles out of her way, only to be pushed back into the center of the crowd. She was about ready to use her wand and hex all of them, when she felt a hand grab hold of her wrist. Narcissa shrieked, thinking it was one of the muggles, but relaxed when she saw that Lyra's face had materialized through the crowd. Her niece smiled warmly at her and led her out of the shop and back to their carriage, where Veralidaine sat waiting for them. Narcissa breathed a sigh of relief, delighted that they were finally out of the horrible mob and was more than pleased, when Lyra presented her with new robes. Narcissa stared down at the neatly folded robes in Lyra's arms and smiled at how well Lyra knew her. Kissing the young witch's head, Narcissa took the robes.

%

"Ly, Ly," Veralidaine said, looking up from her book of listed muggle names, "what do you think about Lisa? Do you think I look like a Lisa Turpin?"

"No." Lyra replied.

Veralidaine nodded and continued her search of her new name on the other side of the bed.

Lyra lay on her bed, staring up at the ceiling and contemplating what her new name should be. She, unlike Veralidaine, was not using a list of names to form her new identity. She decided that she wanted to think up one herself. But it was proving to be more difficult than she thought. So for the time being, Lyra thought of her real name and what it meant and represented. Similar to many members of her mother's side of the family, her name, Lyra, was a constellation. It seemed to Lyra that the Blacks either name their children after constellations or things related to nature. But as Lyra remembered, her father didn't intend to name her after a constellation. He once told her that he named her after his favorite aunt Lyra, who died, the day before her wedding day no less.

None the less, Lyra is a constellation. Stars directly under the constellation Draco. It didn't surprise Lyra too much that they had chosen Draco as her young cousin's name. He was a boy after all, they wanted him to be above her. Every culture has their own favored sex, which mainly consist of males, and the wizardary world is no different. After mentally laughing at the thought for an unknown reason, Lyra continued musing about her name.

Lyra was another form of the word lyre, a stringed musical instrument. It resembles a harp, but instead of plucking the strings with their fingers, the player strums it with a plectrum. The irony was that Lyra was able to play the lyre, quite well actually. She took it upon herself to learn how to play it after realizing that it was her name. Lucius ordered the finest lyre to be made for her and hired the best musical tutor money could buy when she told him that she wanted to learn. In only three lessons, Lyra was able to play over twenty different songs, and was highly praised by her aunt and uncle. They bought her an assortment of gifts, which irritated Draco, causing him to steal her lyre and break it. Lucius was angry and made him go to bed without supper, but not before taking her and Draco to a famous quidditch shop. He told Lyra she to pick any broom she wanted or she could have all of them if she pleases, while making Draco stand against the wall and watch. Draco was furious at her by then, and as soon as they were alone he vowed that he would never speak to her again, but that didn't even last a week.

"Lyra?" Veralidaine called.

"Yes."

"What do you think about Daphne?"

"No."

And with that, Veralidaine continued her search.

The constellation Lyra, has an eagle or a vulture carrying a lyre representing it on a map...Lyra mused. An eagle? Ravenclaw... Ravenclaw, one of the houses in Hogwarts. Its mascot is an eagle. Lyra discontinued all thoughts about Hogwarts and its houses. There would be time for that later. For now, she needed to focus on her name.

"Lyra, what about Megan?"

"No."

Lyra closed her eyes and enjoyed the silence until she heard a word being echoed from the deepest depth of her mind.

_Hermione_.

"Hermione?" Lyra said as she opened her eyes.

"Hermione?" Veralidaine repeated, looking up from her book. "Is that your new name?"

"Yes." Lyra found herself saying.

"Hermione, Hermione," Veralidaine said, "as in a Shakespeare's The Winter's tale?" It was the first thing she thought of.

"No." Lyra replied. "Hermione. The Iliad."

Veralidaine thought of Lyra's response and gasped as she remembered who Hermione was in the epic tale. "Oh! Hermione! Helen and Menelaus' daughter - Hermione the orphan-" The witch quickly covered her mouth with her book as soon as she said the word, fearing it would anger Lyra.

"'In my childhood I had no mother; my father was ever in the wars—though the two were not dead, I was reft of both.'" Lyra quoted one of Hermione's speeches that she had read so often that she thought the words were forever carved in her heart.

Veralidaine began chewing her bottom lip. She was far too frightened even speak, let alone breath. Lyra was silent, as usual, but at this moment she was too silent. The witch cowered on the bed and held her book over her chest as if it were a shield. She wasn't afraid of whatever angry magic Lyra would send her way, but by the mere fact that Lyra was displeased with her. Lyra may not show it but Veralidaine knew that she is very sensitive about subjects involving her incarcerated parents.

After Veralidaine first met Lyra, she had owled her father and told him of Lyra, he warned her to stay away from her. He had said that someone who had felt such emotional torment at a young age, as Lyra, would eventually explode from her calm and composed facade and hurt all those around her. Veralidaine thought she felt her heart broke that day, after hearing what her father said. And that was the day that she knew that she had to stay with Lyra and save her from herself. She decided to be Lyra's friend and fill her up with happy memories, so she would forget all the harsh things that had happened to her, while in the care of her parents. After reading of the crimes of the Lestranges' Veralidaine could hardly imagine how they treated Lyra at home and what she might have seen growing up - they could've been torturing muggles on their living room floor with Lyra watching!

"Veralidaine." Lyra said, causing Veralidaine to shrink deeper into the bed, "I'm not angry with you. I was merely informing you."

Veralidaine breathed a sigh of relief and lower the book from her chest. "Oh! Hermione, you chose Hermione as your new name."

"Yes." Lyra said.

Seeing as Lyra was lost in thought, again, Veralidaine returned to her search. But no matter how she tried she could not. All the witch could think about was the name Lyra had chosen. _Hermione. _Veralidaine thought of the Iliad and the parts associated with the character Hermione. A particular passage came to mind.

_So when Helen and Paris left Hellas as lovers, they, not wishing to renounce gold, put most of the Spartan property on board before they sailed away to Troy. But Hermione—the nine years old daughter of Helen and Menelaus—they left behind._

Veralidaine couldn't grasp the idea of how a mother could chose gold and wealth over her own daughter. The thought truly sicken her.

_Sometime__ later, also her father sailed to Troy though his trip was no love cruise, but a bellicose enterprise engaging many kingdoms of Hellas, which, having gathered a huge fleet, were determined to obtain by any means the restoration of both Helen and the property. Thus Hermione remained in Sparta, deprived of both her parents and being raised by her aunt Clytaemnestra, for the time the Trojan War lasted, that is, ten years. And for that, she laments_

_"In my childhood I had no mother; my father was ever in the wars—though the two were not dead, I was reft of both."_

In the tale Hermione had an arranged marriage to her first cousin Orestes. However, on the battlefield during the Trojan War, her father also promised her to Neoptolemus, another warrior, as a reward if he sacked Troy. He did and when the war was over, Hermione was stuck having to choose who she would marry.

Veralidaine mentally slapped herself for not noticing it earlier. Lyra and Hermione are in a similar situation. It must've been why Lyra read the tale so often. Lyra could relate to what Hermione felt. Abandoned. Their parents were taken far away from them. They were under different circumstances, but it was the same. Both were orphans, yet not, in the sense that their parents are still alive but they are unable to be near them. The more Veralidaine thought about it the more she noticed certain things she had not before. Hermione was given to her aunt to be raised, after her parents' departure. Lyra was given to her aunt to be raised as well. It's been ten years after the war. Both their parents were mainly involved in a war...

_No! that's ridiculous! How can it be? _Veralidaine thought. _It's not like the book was a foreshadow if future events to happen. What next? Two wizards are going to fight over Lyra's hand in marriage?_

Veralidaine didn't have to read the book to know _that_. With Lyra's beautiful shiny, wavy raven hair and her warm brown eyes, and her soft pale skin... No doubt there would be more than two wizards dueling for her hand.

"Veralidaine."

"Yes." Veralidaine answered, shaking her head. By Lyra's tone, Veralidaine knew that she must've been staring at her again. "Sorry."

Veralidaine couldn't help it. Lyra was far too beautiful and pleasant to look at. Throughout their first school year, Veralidaine would catch herself staring at Lyra without knowing it, as would most of their schoolmates. Lyra would call her name, in a certain tone that would tell her that she was staring and she would stop. Lyra had told her that she didn't mind that she was staring; she's grown quite use to it but becomes annoyed by the knowledge that someone is watching her every move.

"Veralidaine."

"Sorry."

%

Lucius placed his hand under his chin as he held his wand with his other hand.

"How could you do such a thing Lucius!" Narcissa demanded, "How could you!"

"It's necessary Narcissa." Lucius drawled.

"Necessary?" Narcissa exclaimed. "It's necessary to do such a thing to _my _niece!"

"Narcissa, you do forget. She is _my _niece as well."

Lyra stayed seated on her chair as she observed her uncle and aunt's developing lover's quarrel. She felt guilty, being as she is the cause for their current argument. The witch hated when the two would argue. Whenever they argue, it meant that she would be right in the middle and have to choosea side. She knew that she had to do something to stop this before things got ugly.

"Lucius! I have about enough of this!" Narcissa decleared.

"Narcissa, I understand. But we can't let her enter Hogwarts as she is."

"Oh! My poor Lyra!" Narcissa sobbed as she pulled Lyra to her. Running her fingers through Lyra's new redish, brown hair and held the lose strands up, Narcissa gasped for the unpteen time as she stared in horror at them once more. "Why? Lucius! Why? Why must you choose such a hideous color to glamor her hair! Russet! Oh!"

Lyra held her aunt close, since she looked about ready to faint.

Lyra and Lucius were in the middle of forming her muggle born disguise, when Narcissa entered the study, wanting to see how things were progressing. She gasped and placed her hand over her heart. She was distraughted by her husband's color choice. Narcissa wondered if Lucius noticed this, but he glamored Lyra's hair the same as the color of his desk. She didn't want to point it out for she feared that it would upset Lyra. Lyra would think that Lucius thought of her as a common item in the manor, an ornament. Narcissa had tried her best to make Lyra feel as loved and possible, by her and Lucius, but for him to do such and thing... _What if she loses her sanity like her parents!_

"I like it." Lyra said, causing Lucius to nod in agreement, "But can it be more red and less brown, like cousin Cedrella's husband's hair. What was his name again?"

"Lyra!" Narcissa and Lucius exclaimed. They all knew very well that Cedrella Black was disowned and burnt off the family tree for marrying Septimus Weasley. Both were outraged that she would ever speck their names or even _acknowledge _them as family.

"Bite your tongue young lady!" Lucius scolded her.

"See what you've done Lucius!" Narcissa cried, "She is highly traumatized by what you've done to her hair - she's obviously become delusional!"

Lucius was taken back by what his wife had said. _Merlin! What if she goes mental like her parents? _"Dobby!" He shouted.

"Yes, master." the House Elf popped in.

"Quick! Summon the Healer! Lyra is ill!" Lucius commanded.

Draco peeked outside his door as he watched his parents fuss over his cousin. A house elf had told him that she had become ill and his father had summoned their family Healer to see to her.

"She's probably faking it." Draco scoffed. _As if she would ever __get__ ill!_

"I'm sorry Cissy. I never should've done that." Draco heard his father say to his mother as he held her in his arms, walking her back to the master bedroom.

After he was sure they were gone, Draco went across the hall to his cousin's bedroom and entered without knocking. She was laying on her four poster bed, with the curtains closed on one end and opened on the other so she could look out her window. Draco gazed at the closed curtains for a second before he stepped forward.

"I thought I told you to knock." Lyra said to Draco, not looking away from the window. Her room was warded in a way that informed her whenever someone entered, the lamp on her nightstand, near her window, would light up and the name of the person would appear on the base. The lamp was proof to Lucius that that Draco was the one who trespassed into Lyra's room and broke her lyre. Although, the lamp wasn't necessary since Draco was the obvious suspect. It wasn't likely that the house elves would dare do something of that nature.

"I did." Draco lied.

"No. You didn't."

Draco stomped toward her bed and moved the curtain aside so he could see her. "I heard you were ill."

"I'm not." Lyra said as she turned form the window to look at him.

"I knew it!" He pointed at her in accusation, "Liar!"

"Were you worried about me?" Lyra asked, catching Draco off guard.

"I was not!" Draco shouted.

"Oh." Was all Lyra said, but they both know he was lying.

Draco hated it when she would remain so calm, while he was frustrated. "I hate you!" he shouted. But they both know he didn't mean it.

"Too bad," Lyra softly replied, causing Draco to fume, "because I love you."

Draco blushed at her words and took a stepped back. "You're only saying that because you know it upsets me!"

"No. I said it, because it's the truth." Lyra said, "I do love you... as a brother." Lyra finished with an innocent smile.

The last time Lyra had called Draco her little brother, he had a fit. Draco was an only child, which he was proud of. If Lyra claimed she that loved him as a brother then he would have to acknowledge her as an older sister, which he would never do. If he did, then it would mean that his parents had another child, and he would no longer an only child. Lyra knew of Draco's odd logic and enjoys teasing him about it, but not too harshly.

"You're not my sister!" Draco shouted.

"Shh..." Lyra pressed her finger over her lips, "Draco, if you shout any louder. The house elves might think you're trying to attack me and tell uncle Lucius."

Draco nearly jumped at what she said. "How dare you threaten me." he said in a low voice.

"I'm not. I'm just being honest." Lyra informed him, and decided to change the subject. She thought she had teased him enough for the day. "I pretended I was ill so that uncle Lucius and aunt Cissy would stop arguing."

"Oh." Draco said, secretly glad the subject was being changed. He and Lyra had known each other long enough to be able to forgive and forget one another in seconds. "Why? If they argue that means we'll get twice the presents we normally do." Draco said as he sat on her bed and nodded toward the box of assorted chocolates on her nightstand.

"No Draco. It's not good if they argue." Lyra said as she took the box from the nightstand and offered them to him.

"Says you." Draco said and swallowed a caramel filled one. "What else did you get?"

"A grand piano is arriving in an hour." Lyra answered.

"Another instrument?" Draco asked, "Why couldn't you get something _I _like?"

"Uncle Lucius is going to take us to purchase new brooms tomorrow."

"Nice one." Draco said in approval. "What did you say or do to make them think you were ill?" Draco curiously asked, since she didn't look particularly ill.

"They thought it was a mental illness. I told them I wanted to change my hair to Weasley red."

Draco burst out laughing and nearly choked on the piece of chocolate he was chewing on. Lyra began to laugh as well and soon both were holding their stomachs, rolling on the bed.

"I can't imagine the look on father's face when you said that!" Draco said, wiping tears from his eyes.

%

"What a miserable excuse for a robe shop this is." Lucius drawled. "No wonder your aunt couldn't return to _this_."

On their second attempt to purchase muggle robes, Lucius decided to escort Lyra and Veralidaine in place of Narcissa, since she nearly fell ill the last time she was there.

Lyra and Veralidaine exchanged glances but didn't say a word.

"Let's go look over there." Lyra said.

Lucius followed them, close enough that he could see them but far enough to give them their space. He knew how witches were when they shopped, insane. As he stood there, he noticed a few muggle women whispering and looking his way. He, of course, ignored them and continued to watch over his niece.

"Lyra what do you think about this one?" Veralidaine asked.

"Try it on." Lyra told her.

With that Veralidaine skipped to a room with the words Fitting Room over it.

While Lyra was looking through the muggle robes, a little muggle girl came a pulled on her sleeve and said, "Mary!"

Lyra turned around and looked at the girl.

"Sorry." the girl said sadly, "I thought you were my sister." and then girl began to sob. "You dress...her!"

"I'm dressed like her?" Lyra asked the girl if that was true.

The muggle girl nodded her head, crying even louder.

Lyra looked at herself in a full length mirror nearby. She was wearing what she thought was plain and appropriate for this trip, with a dark coat and long skirt. She then looked to the girl and studied her attire. The muggle girl was wearing a very shiny coat that made her look like a crystal ball, her hair was tied up by various colorful ornaments, and her trouser, blue with designs of rainbows and unicorns sewed on them.

"How old are you?" Lyra asked.

"Six!" the muggle girl choked out.

She was four years younger than Lyra, Lyra noted. "Where's your mother?"

"Work!"

"So you're here with your sister?"

The girl nodded with boggers and tears staining her face.

"Do you want me to help you find her?"

The girl nodded once again, sniffling as she did so.

After Lyra found the girl's sister she returned to where she was waiting for Veralidaine, who was in one of the fitting rooms. Suddenly she heard a muffled cry from under a rack of muggle robes next to her. Curious, Lyra walked to the rack and pushed aside the garments to find Veralidaine hugging her knees and weeping.

"Lyra!" she sobbed, jumping up and hugging her. "I thought you left meeeeeee!"

Upon exiting the fitting room and not seeing Lyra, Veralidaine assumed Lyra had abandoned her with these evil muggles. She had hid under the rack of clothes and began crying, after having thought of how the muggles would kill her and steal her magic.

Lyra patted Veralidaine's back and reassured her that she didn't leave her. After Lyra had finished telling her what really happened Veralidaine stopped crying, but continued to cling on to her.

"Uncle Lucius," Lyra said, "Veralidaine tripped and hit her knee. We should go home and see to it."

Lyra didn't want her uncle to know what really happened or else he would use this as leverage against Veralidaine, proving that she wasn't capable of going to Hogwarts. Fortunatly, Lucius was distracted by the crowd of muggle women seemingly surrounding him to noticed Veralidaine.

"All right." Lucius said.

As they walked away the crowd that had formed around Lucius sighed in a dream like manner. Lyra glanced at her uncle's scowl and the crowd of women. She mentally laughed to herself. Clearly the crowd was in awed by her uncle's beauty and stopped whatever they were doing to stare and whisper.

"Lucius," Narcissa greeted her husband as he returned home with Lyra and Veralidaine, "how was it?"

"The muggles knew I was not one of them and were conspiring against me." Lucius told his wife. "Possibly to steal my magic and give it to their offsprings."

Lyra wasn't certain if that was what the muggles were up to, but remained silent. She excused herself and took Veralidaine to her room.

"Oh darling!" Narcissa embraced Lucius. "It must've been awful."

"Have Dobby burn those robes." Lucius said, pointing his cane at the pile of discarded robes. Not wanting to taint his carriage with muggle filth, he magically discarded his robes after they had left the muggle shop and magically replaced them with new ones. He would have distoried them himself but didn't want to taint his wand.

%

"Dentistry."

"What?" Veralidaine asked, look at Lyra curiously.

"My muggle parents will practice dentistry."

"Dentistry? What is that?"

"Exactly," Lyra nodded, "no pure blood knows what it is and few half bloods care to speak of it. Only muggle borns know of it. Teeth." Lyra answered Veralidaine's puzzled stare, "Those who practice dentistry are healers of the teeth."

"Teeth?" Veralidaine cringed as she said the word.

"See how uncomfortable it made you?" Lyra stated, "Just think how confused the others would be."

"Oh, I see." Veralidaine said, "But Ly, Ly, why teeth?"

"I want my muggles parents to have a career that no one would care to know of or even talk about. I've narrowed my choices down to dentist, cardiologist, healers of the heart, or a gynecologist, those who study the health of the female reproductive system." Lyra said, "I picked dentistry because no one wants to talk about their teeth, especially those in England. I don't want my muggle parents to be cardiologists. What if someone has a heart attack? People would expect me to do something about it. I don't want to touch anyone and what if I make their condition worse. As for gynecologists, I think that is going much too far. Not only will they be uncomfortable so will I."

%

How do you like my interpretation and explanations of the story so far? I hope everything is clear, because I have a habit of skipping certain details that are important- one of my beta's pointed them out for me earlier. Sorry if there are a lot of errors,I think too fast and type too slow. My beta fixed it but I wanted to add a few more details to it.

The reason why Narcissa and Veralidaine are so emotional in this chapter is because of the Muggle hating propaganda that Voldemort and those before him were spreading. I'm explaining their behavior here because a friend of mind was questioning me about why they were acting like that.


	4. Hogwarts Express

Lyra twisted and turned as she examined her reflection on the mirror, examining her final look. After the "incident" involving her hair, Lyra told her uncle and aunt that she would like to choose her disguise by herself. At first, she was thinking of asking her uncle to glamour her hair blonde, like her aunt, and have gray or blue eyes, but banished the ideas after careful consideration. She realized that she was thinking of making herself look like her uncle and aunt. It could be that sub-consciously she thought of herself as being their real daughter and was taking this opportunity to look more like them then her actual parents. Lyra closed her eyes and pushed the thought away and continued to observe herself. She imagined having straight brown hair, instead of curly, black, and hazel eyes, in place of her natural dark brown ones, with tanned skin in place of light.

"I need a new nose and lips." she told herself. Lyra wasn't certain if it was fortunate or unfortunate for her to have inherited the Black family's distinctive and well know nose, thin lips, and jawline.

She picked up the Muggle magazine that Veralidaine had borrowed from one of her older cousins on her Muggle mother side of the family, and turned the pages. She pulled out the images with young women on them and lined them side-by-side in order to study their facial features.

Meanwhile, Veralidaine lay on Lyra's bed, flipping through the pages, and giggling every once and a while.

Curiosity finally got to her, Lyra looked over Veralidaine's shoulder to see the photo. "We're suppose to be looking at female Muggles, not males."

"I know. I told Lisa to only give me the ones with lots of girls." Veralidaine giggled, "She must've accidentally put this one with the others by mistake. Isn't he handsome." she pointed.

"He's a half blood." Lyra said, casually.

"What? How did you know?"

"His nose."

Veralidaine stared at Lyra for a moment and studied the Muggle's nose. "Looks familiar..."

"He's a Muggle. Him too, and him. He's a half blood. He's a Muggle" Lyra said as she looked at each of the men on the page.

"How can you tell?"

"His eyes are too far apart."

"And that makes him a Muggle?"

"Yes."

"Why?" Veralidaine wondered.

"Uncle Lucius said so."

%

"Relax." Lyra said to Veralidaine, gesturing towards a glass of water.

"I'm so excited!" Veralidaine squealed, "We're going to Hogwarts tomorrow!" she shouted, hopping up and down on Lyra's bed.

Normally, Lyra would tell her to stop because she feared Veralidaine would fall and hurt herself. But just this once, she decided to let her have her fun.

"Hello Draco." Lyra greeted her cousin who was standing behind her door.

Veralidaine ceased her jumping and stared at Lyra, who wasn't looking at the door but at the vase on the nightstand.

"Are you coming in?" asked Lyra.

Veralidaine remained quiet and waited, her eyes moving from Lyra to the door.

A few seconds later, Draco emerged, pushing the door open and shutting it quietly behind him.

Veralidaine caught herself before she could squeal at the sight of him. Draco maybe a year younger than her, but he's just so handsome just like his father. She always imagined how gorgeous he'd be when he's older. She giggled at the thought, but instantly stopped when she caught Lyra's eyes.

"I couldn't sleep." Draco sneered, "With you and your mate here being so loud."

"Loud? How could you hear us? Uncle Lucius placed a silencing charm in here."

Veralidaine placed her hand over her mouth to cover her smile. Lyra had caught Draco on a lie.

"You calling me a liar?" Draco would have sounded convincing if his voice wasn't trembling.

"Veralidaine, excuse me for a moment will you I need to speck to my cousin." Lyra said.

After the witch nodded, Lyra motioned for Draco to follow her to his room. Draco snorted at her action, but followed her without any more complaints.

"What's wrong?" Lyra asked Draco as soon as his door was shut.

Lyra knew that Draco was anxious about going to Hogwarts tomorrow. For the first time in his life, Draco was going to leave the shelter of his mother and father and he was terrified. She pretended like she didn't know, because it would upset Draco even more. She hated it when she knows about his thoughts and feelings before he would actually feel them.

"How did you feel?" Draco asked her in an uncharacteristically shy manner.

"How do I feel about what?" Lyra played dumb.

"About," Draco paused as he pressed out his bottom lip, then bit it, "about leaving." He whispered the words, then gasped like he just said a curse.

"I was scared." She told him honestly. "I almost cried."

Draco gasped once again, "You," he pointed at her, "you almost cried? But you never cry!"

Lyra smiled, it seemed her words had shocked him enough to make him forget his fear and anxiousness.

"Everyone cries, Draco." Lyra said, "Or did you forget about last week?"

Draco blushed at this and pressed his lip together. He knew that Lyra was referring to the incident that happened last week, when Draco was in Diagon Ally with his father and they ran into an associate of his father and his wife. Draco smiled and greeted the couple politely as Lucius expected but became angry when the man's wife commented on what a pretty little girl he was. Lucius patted Draco's shoulder, signaling him to hold his temper and kindly informed the couple that this was his son. The witch quickly apologized but the damage was already done as soon as they returned home, Draco had a fit, screaming and crying to his mother about how rude the ugly, evil witch was.

"I'm not pretty! I'm handsome!" Draco shouted in frustration, stomping his foot, about ready to have another fit.

"Lower your voice, Draco." Lyra said.

Draco instantly closed his mouth, Lyra's cold and authoritative tone was much like what his father sounded like when he'd misbehave. He stilled his movements and straightened his back, when that tone's being use it means that he's in trouble and will surely be punished. "Sorry." He reflexively said in a low voice.

"No, I'm sorry." Lyra apologized, "I should not have brought that up, knowing how it upsets you."

"Well," Draco replied, gazing at her in the same fashion his father usually did with him. "I'm glad you respond-still-ly admit your mistakes." he repeated what his father had said to him last week after his mother convinced him to apologize to his father for throwing such a tantrum.

Lyra smiled at Draco's attempt to resemble his father's sophisticated stance and how he poorly pronounced the words.

Draco puffed his chest out, proud of himself. "Next time do not behave in such a ride-dick-you-less manner." he ended with a nod.

Lyra bit her bottom lip to stop herself from laughing. Meanwhile, Draco curiously arched his eyebrow at her. "What's wrong with you?"

"Nothing." She managed to cough out. "I need to go to the bathroom."

After Lyra shut the bathroom door, she bust out laughing. She couldn't help it, her little cousin was too adorable. The reason why she had to go in to the bathroom to laugh was because Draco would certainly throw a tantrum at this.

"Are you done yet?" Draco asked her through the door. "I'm going to bed."

Lyra exited the bathroom as Draco made himself comfortable on his bed. "You can leave now." He told her, waving her out.

"Want me to tuck you in?" Lyra offered, leaning against the door.

Draco sent her a determined look. "I'm starting Hogwarts tomorrow that makes me an adult, now."

Lyra nodded, humoring him.

"Adults do not need to be tucked into bed." He stated as he yawned.

"You're absolutely right." Lyra said as she walked to him and kissed his head. "Good night." she said, stopping at the door and waved.

"EW!" Draco exclaimed, wiping the area she had kissed. "I'M TELLING MY DAD ON YOU!" He screamed as she shut the door.

Lucius was about ready to retire for the night with Narcissa, when they heard the screams of their son. Alarmed, Narcissa hurried out but was stopped by Lucius. He calmed her and took his wand out and walked to Draco's room just in time to see Lyra emerged, quietly shutting the door.

"What happened this time?" Lucius inquired.

"I kissed him good night." Lyra told them.

"I see..." Lucius drawled. _And he was screaming as if he was deeply wronged..._

"I told you it was nothing." Lucius said to Narcissa.

Narcissa ignored him and reached for Draco's door.

"He said he doesn't need to be tucked in." Lyra informed her aunt, "He's an adult now."

"But -"

"Narcissa," Lucius said calmly, taking her hand and leading her back to their room, "he wants to be an adult."

"But he is not." Narcissa replied, defiantly. "He's just a boy. _My _little boy."

"And he always will be." Lucius assured her. "Good night Lyra." he said glancing at his niece. "Have a good rest. Tomorrow is going to be a very long day."

"Good night." Lyra said.

As she entered her room, Lyra found Veralidaine already asleep on her bed. Smiling, she put the blanket that Veralidaine had kicked off her in her sleep, over her.

%

"Ohmygodsohmygods." Veralidaine chanted. "I can't believe we're on the Hogwarts Express!" she squealed.

"Take deep breaths." Lyra told her, holding her shoulders so she wouldn't start hopping, again.

Veralidaine was silent throughout their journey there and when they stepped on the train. Lyra knew it wouldn't last and was waiting for her to lose her silence and explode in a complete Veralidaine-like fashion. Sure enough, the moment they sat down in the compartment, and Veralidaine was over the initial shock, she began hopping about the small area like a rabbit.

"Ohmygodsohmygods." Veralidaine continued to chant. "I can't believe we're on the Hogwarts Express!" she squealed once again.

"Veralidaine!" Lyra exclaimed, firmly shaking her by the shoulders. "Get a hold of yourself."

"I - I'm sorry. Ly - Hermione - I'm sorry." Veralidaine apologized. "I'mokaynowI'mokayI'mokay -"

"Would you like me to slap you?" Lyra politely offered.

"Yes," Veralidaine replied, "hard."

"All right." Lyra raised her hand and slapped the witch with medium force, not wanting to really hurt her.

"Thank you." Veralidaine said, cupping her stinging cheek. "I feel so much better now." And she truly did.

"Good. Now, when we are in Hogwarts we have to call each other by our new names. Even when we are alone."

Veralidaine nodded, "All right, Hermione Jean Granger."

Lyra decided on Granger as her surname when she had met a little Muggle girl crying for her sister, while she was shopping for Muggle robes with Veralidaine. The little girl's name was Jane Granger and her sister was Jean. The Muggle girls were out shopping with their aunt, who's name just happened to also be Jean. Both Jeans were quite grateful when Lyra returned Jane to them and thanked her. They were the first Muggles Lyra had ever met, let alone speak too, and they were not as she had expected. They were... kind...not at all like what her had uncle told her of Muggles.

Lyra borrowed the Muggle's surname because, _if _anyone were to ever look into her background as Hermione Jean Granger. They would find a real Muggle family with that name. And Jean, the younger one, was around Lyra's age and the had the same height as her. _If _she, Lyra, were to disappear - when her role-playing was done - everyone would think that the Muggle girl was her. Lyra, with the help of her uncle, would spread rumors that Jean Granger lost her magic in a horrible, unavoidable, accident and decided to leave the Magical world, to live her life as a Muggle. _If _someone were to search for her they would find a Muggle girl who knows nothing of the Magical world, and think she was so traumatized by the accident that she completely erased the Magical world from her memory.

Considering the meeting as a good sign, Lyra and told her uncle Lucius of her plans. He thought it was brilliant and complimented her for thinking ahead. He also told her of his plans of making her - Lyra Lestrange - seem like she was still attending Durmstrang Institute, by paying the Headmaster, Igor Karkaroff, to keep her name on the roster. Lucius told Igor that he had transferred Lyra to Beauxbatons Academy of Magic and to keep her name on the roster - put down that she was still attending classes - encase she didn't like Beauxbatons and wanted to return to the Durmstrang. This knowledge - and the fact that an ex-Death Eater was her former Headmaster, coincidentally took up post at Durmstrang right after Lucius decided she would go there - prompted Lyra to wonder how long had her uncle had planned this. For all she knows, Lucius might have planned this ever since he had confirmation that Harry Potter was the one who defeated He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named - he even had a pensieve bowl ready for her and Veralidaine to put their memories of their real lives in!

"Yes and you are -"

The witches were suddenly interrupted by a knocked on their door.

"Excuse me." round-faced, boy with a short, plump build and blond hair said, peeking his head in. "Sorry, but have you seen a toad at all?"

"No." Lyra replied.

The boy, no doubt a first year - like them, miserably gazed at the floor. "Thank you." He said softly and closed the door, pulling his truck down the aisle with him.

"What was that about?" Veralidaine asked.

"I think he lost his familiar." Lyra assumed, since he was asking about a toad.

"Right." Veralidaine nodded, pulling her familiar from its cage and stroked its fur. "L-Hermione, why didn't you bring a familiar with you? I'm certain your uncle would have bought you with one."

"I don't want one, now." Lyra said, patting the familiar's long ears.

"Why not?"

"Because if I got one, Draco would demand one as well." Lyra told her, "And I don't think he is responsible enough. I want to wait."

"Why are the beds so thin?" Veralidaine suddenly asked after finally observing her surroundings.

"These aren't beds, they're seats."

"Seats?"

"Excuse me, have you seen a toad?" the same boy from earlier asked once again.

"No." Veralidaine replied.

Lyra watched as the boy's eyes saddened as he thanked them. He was about to close the door and leave, when Lyra suddenly felt a compulsion to stop him.

"Wait."

The boy stopped and looked at Lyra. "Yes?" he said politely.

"Want to come sit with us?" Lyra asked, feeling as if she was bewitched to ask him that question.

"I - I- I have to look for my toad." He nervously told them, sucking on his bucked teeth.

"Will you come in and sit down."

"I-I-"

"You must be tired from your search. I saw you walking pass our compartment three times already."

"I-I- s-suppose I could."

He stepped in and stood in front of the door, frigidity with his fingers.

"Please sit." Lyra offered.

The boy did as he was told without protest.

"I'm Hermione Granger." Lyra introduced herself, unknowing she was smiling at him.

"I'm Neville..." He said, "Neville Longbottom."

"Longbottom?" Veralidaine repeated, giggling.

Veralidaine remained silent when had Lyra invited Neville in because she was curious as to why Lyra did it. She did not understand this - Lyra smiled at him! In all the years that they have known each other, Veralidaine never knew Lyra to be so friendly to someone of the opposite sex that she just met or letting them be in such close proximity to her.

"Longbottom?" Veralidaine inclined her head. Now that she thought about it. _Why does this name sound familiar?_

"Longbottom?" Veralidaine repeated.

"Yes," Nevilled nodded.

"I think I heard that name before..." Veralidaine said to herself, having not heard Neville.

"Please excuse me." Lyra said with a forced smile and lifted the compartment.

"Is she all right?" Neville asked, concerned. "She seemed ill." he said, but realized that Veralidaine wasn't paying attention to him. "Excuse me, miss."

Veralidaine shook her head and looked at him. "What?"

"She doesn't look well." He said. "Hermione." he said softly, uncertain, since he didn't know her well enough to say her first name.

"Who?" Veralidaine asked.

She was too engrossed with her musing that she forgot that Hermione was Lyra's name now.

"_Hermione_." Neville repeated, "The girl that just left."

"Oh!" Veralidaine gasped, she couldn't believe she had forgotten! "_Hermione_! Yes Hermione - that was Hermione." she nodded. _Lucky Lyra wasn't here for that. _She thought. _Longbottom, Longbottom..._She continued to think. _Wait! I remeber now! Longbottom - __Alice and Frank Longbottom! Famous Aurors! Hospitalized! Tortured by Bella-_

"OH MY GODS!" Veralidaine gasped, jumping off her seat. "OHMYGODOHMYGOD - YOU'RE LONGBOTTOM!" She pointed.

"Yes." Nevilled repiled, cowering in a corner near the window. He was frightened of the witch because her suddenly behavior and screams.

"YOU'RE LONGBOTTOM!" She screamed once more. "LONGBOTTOM!" she went silent and slowly fell back on to her seat with her mouth agape. And then her eyes widen and she ran out the compartment in alarm. "LY, LY!" She screamed. _OH NO PLEASE BE OKAY! _she thought, frantically searching for Lyra. She ran through the aisle, forcibly opening every compartment door along the way while screaming nonsense and frightening the occupants. She screamed even louder when she felt someone's hand on her shoulder. She turned around to find Lyra gazing at her with her eyebrow arched.

"Why are you screaming?" Lyra asked Veralidaine in her unusually calm tone, compared to their situation.

"LYRA!" Veralidaine cried, tightly embracing her. "Ar-ar-are you all right! I-I-was w-w-worried that you-you-"

"I'm fine." Lyra said, leading her into the empty storage area of the train.

Securely locking the door, Lyra turned to Veralidaine, who was staring at her feet.

"I'm sorry I worried you." Lyra apologized. Her voice was low and kind, yet somehow it made Veralidaine shiver, instead of comforting her.

"No!" Veralidaine exclaimed, "D-don't apologize." She steadied her voice, trying hard to speak thought her tears and dried throat. "I-I-I mean..." She didn't know what to say, let alone how to say it.

"Thank you." Lyra repiled.

Veralidaine looked up and stared at Lyra in confusion. "T-t-thank you?" she repeated in a whisper. "F-f-for what?" she choked out.

"You weep in place of me."

Veralidaine was more confused than ever by Lyra's words. But when she gazed at Lyra's face, she saw that Lyra had streaks of tears silently running down her cheeks. "LY, Ly!" She exclaimed and embraced her.

"These tears I shed are for me and my lost ones...I don't know why...these tears of mine would not shed for others...and their lost...Am I selfish?" She asked Veralidaine, "I weep for me and only me...and make you weep in my place for others."

"No Ly, Ly!" Veralidaine shook her head, trying to reason with Lyra, "You must not think that way! - You're _not _selfish!"

"Am I?" Lyra asked, meeting Veralidaine's gaze. "When I saw _him_, one of my parent's victims, I felt remorseful. My heart floods with guilt, but I dared not tell him my name - my real name! I wonder...do I feel remorseful for him or for me? And this guilt...is it really guilt for him?"

"Whatever guilt it is it's not yours to bare."

"Isn't it?"

"No!"

"How do you know?"

"I just do." Veraidaine told her with a smile. "You're my best friend, Ly, Ly and I know you better than you think."

"Do you?" Lyra said inaudibly.

Veralidaine heard her and contemplate what she had said. But the only thing she could think of was the first day she and Lyra had meet.

"Don't worry, everyone cries." Veralidaine quoted what Lyra said to her at their first meeting on the ship to Durmstrang.

Lyra smiled sincerely at this. She remembered it as well.

"Yes they do." Lyra said. "...I think I don't want to do this anymore."

"What do you mean?"

"I don't want to befriend _him._"

"But Ly, Ly _he _was what we came for." Veralidaine argued. "What would you say to your uncle? If you can't do this then..."

"I will tell my uncle that Harry Potter is a _boy_." Lyra said, "And _boys _by nature, despise the opposite sex. _Especially _when our kind are obnoxious, self-centered and bossy."

"And what if he doesn't accept that?" Veralidaine asked, not wanting Lyra to be punished for not doing what was assigned to her.

"Don't worry. I'll handle it. Oh and we need to make some minor changes..."

%

"Neville." Lyra called as she spotted him in the aisle.

"Oh. Hello." He said to them, gazing at the floor shyly. "How did you know my name?" he asked.

"We spoke earlier." Lyra said.

"Earlier? But -but - you..."

"But what?" Veralidaine asked.

"You look different." Neville said with with a hint of doubt in his voice. When he looked in their compartment, he only had his toad in mind as didn't pay attention to anything else. And when they invited him in, he was too shy from being in a compartment with two girls that he stared at his hands or feet most of the time. Well, until Veralidaine went ballistic...

"Does she?" Veradaine teased him.

Instead of straight brown hair, hazel eyes, and tanned skin, Lyra altered herself back to her natural appearence, or close to it with some minor changes. She kept her hair brown hair and eyes, but curled her hair back up and decided at the last minute to make it bushy. She wanted to be herself yet not be recognized. And her bucked teeth was a private joke between her and Veralidaine. Since her parents are dentist, she thought it would be funny how ironic it was.

Neville looked up and studied Lyra's face. She had bushy brown hair, brown eyes, and quite large front teeth. "I suppose it was my imagination. You don't look different at all."

"Of course she doesn't. Hermione has always looked this way." Veralidaine said with her nose up.

"Yes, yes. Um?" He said, glancing questionably at Veralidaine.

"Oh, I'm sorry. We haven't been properly introduced yet." Veralidainsaid, "My name's Lavender Brown." she took her hand out for him to shake.

After all the muggle book of names she looked through, Veralidaine and Lyra couldn't find one they both liked for her. Lyra merely said no to all the names because she saw how Veralidaine's face would cringe when she said them to her, clearly Veralidaine didn't like any of them. Lyra agreed to Lavender because Veralidaine didn't cringe as much when she said it and Brown was chosen since it was such a common Muggle surname.

"Are you still searching for your toad?" Lyra asked.

"Yes. I found him - Trevor - a while ago but he keeps getting away from me." Neville told them.

"How about we help you find him?" Veralidaine offered.

"Thank you that would be really helpful."

"If you ever need anything just tell me, all right." Lyra said to him. "I...you seem really nice and let's be friends." She smiled, taking her hand out.

Neville smiled at her shyly and took her hand.

The three spilt apart, in individual search for the ever missing toad, Lyra spotted an opened compartment door. Thinking that Trevor might have hopped in there, Lyra went to the threshold of the door and looked left and right. Two boys were seated in the compartment, one with red hair -obviously a Weasley- and the other with jet black. They had piles of sweets around them and empty wrappers.

"Has anyone seen a toad?" She asked them, "A boy name Neville's lost one."

"No." said the Weasley, shrugging.

As she glanced around, Lyra couldn't help but noticed the black haired boy..._What's that on his forehead?_

She gasped. _It's him! _Composing herself, Lyra turned to the Weasley to distract her. She knew she was going to have to meet soon - but she never imagined this soon.

"Oh! Are you doing magic?" She said, finding a cover for her gasp, earlier. "Let's see then..."

%

I am going to start putting notes at the end of each chapter to explain why I did what I did and the reasons, so you'll understand. Because I know I'm doing extensive research and some of you might not understand and become confused. (Side note: From now on I'm going to call her Hermione instead of Lyra)

#

1) Lyra/Hermione: She claimed that she could tell the difference between Muggles and half bloods and pure bloods with their facial features. I got the idea from reading Half blood prince.

Pensieve of Bob Ogden: Marvolo Gaunt (Tom/Vold's grandpa for those who don't know. I don't have the book with me. I'm come back and fix it later.)

"Your nose, I've seen it in the village" Marvolo said to Ogden, "You're a MUGGLE!" (something along these lines.)

This makes me think that old pure blood families believe they could tell who's pure and who's not by their facial features.

2) Veralidaine/Lavender (Some of you might have already figured it out with all the clues I put in there): I know it's a bit - really - far fetch! Most people I told this idea to, when I was brain storming, said it. But hear me out, the two of them being friends is so hard for anyone to believe that no one would see it coming. Especially with the whole Ron thing. They are complete opposites that none of the Hp characters would believe it. Plus, I already have ideas bubbling with the next books about Hermione and Lavender after reading HBP.

My reasons for Lavender being Veralidaine:

Both are in Gryffindor, Hermione/Lyra saw Ron with Harry on the train. She figures Harry would want to be in Gryffindor with Ron (all Weasleys are in Gryffindor), the first friend he's made, and he turned down Draco's offer to be friends. She tell's Lavender and Lavender convence the Sorting Hat to put her in Gryffindor. Hermione does so too.

Lavender and Hermione are in the same dorm b/c they want to stay close to each other.

Lavender made friends with Pro. Trelawney b/c Hermione thinks she might really be a seer (with limited powers) and tells Lavender to keep and eye on her.

Lavender gossips a lot, what if she does it to get information for Hermione?

(I have a lot more ideas for these two. And to tell you the truth I was considering Pansy as Veralidaine for a while.)

3) Hermione Jean (or Jane) Granger: (I did a autobio on J.K Rowling for class and now I have a habit of studying her side notes for the Hp series.)

At first Hermione's middle name was Jane, but then Rowling had stated that her middle name was "Jean." After DH was published with Hermion's middle name was confirmed as Jean. Rowling had decided that she did not want Hermione to share a middle name with Professor Dolores _Jane_ Umbridge, and thus changed it to Jean.

I noticed, while reading many Hermione fanfics, there are a number of people debating what Hermione's middle name is Jean or Jane? It's Jean! Look up Hermione Granger Wiki and scroll down to Etymology, read the second to the last paragraph - there's my proof!

And if you noticed I made a connection between Jean and Jane, with the Muggle sisters and their aunt. (My own private joke about the middle names. HAHAHA!)

4) Hermione & Neville:

In the real HP story, Hermione is always helping him (I think b/c she feels bad for him) causing both to get in trouble. (There has to be a reason why she so protective of him!)

In my story, Lyra feels that she owes him, after what her parents did to his and wants to make amends. That is my reason for Hermione always helping him. (I have more ideas but don't want give too much away.)

%

I'm rereading the HP books to catch details I might have missed. Give me some time for the next chapter okay - the Sorcerer's or Philosopher's (Whatever you want to call it) Stone is Up next!

...It's going to be soooooooooooo long! Wish me luck!

Undecided pairing! Don't forget to vote on my profile - who you want Hermione/Lyra to pair with!


	5. The Sorcerer's Stone I

I saw the new movie last week. I well withhold my opinions until I read the book. But OMG I got sooooo many ideas for this story!

Don't forget to go to my profile and vote who I should pair Hermione with...So far there's a tie...I might tell you who they are if ask...

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After Hermione realized that she was actually meeting _the _Harry Potter, she became nervous and uncomfortable. She wanted to leave but her feet wouldn't let her. Rooted to the spot, she began speaking quickly and blurting things out. Luckily she caught herself when she said she knew everything about him, and covered it up by saying she got the information from books. She could hex herself for almost telling him that she and her uncle had researched all they could about him. She left the compartment shortly after asking them about which house did they think they would be in, and didn't wait for them to answer. Her mine finally won the battle over her feet and she raced away the first chance she got.

The witch pretended that she had left but in truth she was hiding close by and listening to their conversation. While there she heard Draco, along with his bodyguards, trying to intimidate Harry and Ron. She didn't want Draco to get into trouble before they even got to Hogwarts - it would embarrass the family! When she heard someone yelling and screaming, Hermione threw her voice, making it higher, to prevent the incoming duel, and greeted an imaginary prefect. Draco heard her and commanded Crabbe and Goyle to leave.

She watched as Draco retreated, followed by Crabbe, and Goyle, who was nursing his wounded hand. She had known the wizards, Crabbe and Goyle, ever since their mothers brought them over to play with Draco a month before they entered Hogwarts. The first thought Hermione had, when she first saw the large boys were that they were very unfortunate. Draco thought of the two as toys rather than playmates and treated them as such. To him, they were merely one level above the House elves in their manor.

Hermione care for the overgrown boys to a certain degree; they were Draco's friends after all. She returned to Harry and Ron's compartment to scold them because she was upset that someone was injured.

%

"Gryffindor." Hermione said to Lavender, after Neville excused himself and left for the lavatory.

"What?" Lavender stared at Hermione, confused.

"We will be in Gryffindor House." Hermione told her point blank.

"Gryffindor House?" Lavender repeated, "Why?"

"I saw _him_."

"Him?" Lavender asked, arching her eyebrow at Hermione.

_"Him."_

"Him? - Oh HIM!" Lavender gasped, "As in him, _him."_

"Yes _him _and he's with a Weasley."

"Weasley? Isn't that the name your uncle's always complaining about?"

"Yes and I saw _him _sitting in a compartment with a Weasley. They seem quite friendly."

"Oh?"

"_He _will want to be in Gryffindor with the Weasley. All Weasleys are in Gryffindor." Hermione answered Lavender's unasked question. "The Weasley is the first friend he's made. I'm sure he would want to stay with his friend."

"How did you come to that conclusion?"

"He turned down other offers of friendship, though I don't blame him." Hermione sighed, "Draco..."

"What about Draco?"

"Draco offered his hand to Potter in friendship, but Potter turned him down." Hermione told her, "What did Draco expect after acting so arrogant and superior?" she said more to herself.

Lavender nodded in agreement, then asked, "What's he like? The Boy Who Lived?" She was curious to know if he was like what the books she had read about him said.

"Half blood."

"No." Lavender shook her head, "I mean his personality."

"Odd."

Lavender wrinkled her nose at this. "What do you mean as in odd?"

"He seems surprised by almost everything."

"And that makes him odd?"

"Yes." Hermione replied. "I suppose the Muggles who raised him didn't enlighten him of our world."

"Hmm..." Lavender hummed.

The Hogwarts Express train finally reached its destination and came to a stop. Lavender stood behind and watched as Hermione led Neville away. Hermione told Lavender, when they were in the storage room, that they should keep their distance in the presence of other people while they're lived their double life. Hermione said it would aid in her plan in destroying her Uncle Lucius's scheme and encase something went wrong; no one could tie them together.

Lavender understood Hermione's reasons for them not being together. It showed that Hermione truly cared and worried about her. The thought made her swell with emotions of overwhelming joy, but the joy was equally mixed with sadness. She was depressed, because she felt like she was losing her best friend in the world. It wasn't fair... She met her first! Lavender thought as she cried.

Was it not she, who stayed by Hermione's side ever since they first met. She stayed with her against her father's objections and frightening rumors flying around. It was she who made Hermione finally smile – before she barely showed any emotions!

"Veralidaine." said Hermione as she sat next to the weeping witch.

Hermione returned to the compartment, in search of the ever missing toad, and found Lavender's face pressed to the glassed window as she sobbed. She entered the compartment and locked the door. Taking Lavender in her arms, Hermione patted her back to soothe her.

"I'm an - an - an AWful perSON!" Lavender sobbed.

"You're not."

"Ye-ye-yes I am!" Lavender stuttered, "A...mo - me - ment ago - I - wish we never m - et Ne-Nevi-Neveille! He - he's taking you from me!"

Hermione cupped the witch's trembling chin and forced her to look into her eyes. "Veralidaine, listen to me. _Hermione _is Neville's friend, for now, but _Lyra _will always be yours. Always."

Comforted by Hermione's words, Lavender ceased her melancholy thoughts and was ready to enjoy the experience of living a double life. Maybe this time around, she might be more popular than when she was at Drumstrang. Last year, Lavender knew that she was disliked by many people - besides the teachers - and the only reason why anyone would ever acknowledge her existence was because she was Lyra Lestrange's friend. But, now she's not the four eyed bug, people use to call her behind her back anymore. She got rid of her large glass and charmed her dark skin light, changed the color of her eyes to brown, and her hair to waves of blonde. She was beautiful! And she knew it.

As Hermione stood in the entrance hall waiting for the sorting ceremony to begin, she couldn't help but laugh at the rumors fly about how they were going to be sorted and into which house. Some said they had to perform a number of spells successfully, while others thought they had to do battle with a troll.

She and Lavender shared a smile; they already knew how they were going to be sorted in their house from her Uncle Lucius. The Sorting Hat was a sentient Hogwarts artifact which magically determines which of the four school houses each new student was to be assigned to. During the welcoming ceremony, first-year students are lined up as the Transfiguration professor read their names aloud, alphabetically form a list. Each then, takes a seat on a stool and the dirty, old hat - with a horrible smell - was placed on their heads. After a moment of consideration, depending on their personality and best traits, the dirty, old hat announces its choice aloud for all to hear, and the student joins the selected house. The hat has the ability to read its wearer's thoughts, which was why Lucius made Hermione and Lavender take out their memories and put them in a pensive before they left the manor.

Lavender eyes widen, her mouth agape, at the sight of the ceiling of the Great Hall as they entered. Though, Hermione wasn't surprised at the scene at the least bit since her uncle and aunt already told her what to expect; but she was still in awe at the beauty of the enchanted ceiling.

"It's bewitched to look like the sky outside." Hermione whispered to Lavender, "I read about it in _Hogwarts a History_."

While Professor McGonagall prepared the hat and stool, everyone stared at the elder witch with curiosity; Hermione pulled on Lavender's sleeve to get her attention.

"Do whatever you can. Make the Sorting Hat put you in Gryffindor." Hermione whispered to her.

Lavender nodded as they waited with the rest of the first years for their names to be called. Since her last name was Brown, Lavender knew that she would be the first to go before Hermione.

"_Gryffindor, Gryffindor, Gryffindor, Gryffindor," _Lavender chanted in her head, trying to pursue the hat, and forget about its disgusting smell._"Please, Mister Hat, put me in Gryffindor." _she begged it.

"Gryffindor? Hmmmm..." said the hat. "Are you sure? You're more suited for Ravenclaw, with your thirst for knowledge and -"

"_Gryffindor_! _Gryffindor, Gryffindor, Gryffindor, Gryffindor, Gryff -_"

"OH! All right! Gryffindor!"

Lavender smiled, and took her place at the Gryffindor table.

"_If you'll please be so kind, would you put me in Gryffindor?" _asked Hermione, when it was her turn to be sorted.

_"Hmmmm...Since you asked so nicely."_

"GRYFFINDOR!"

Hermione smiled, pleased with herself. While walking down from the stool, to join the rest of the Gryffindor at the table, Hermione thought of Hogwarts and how different it would be from Drumstrang. With the desire to know more about the school and schoolwork, she seated herself next to a wizard, obviously a Weasley, with a prefect badge to inquire about her upcoming lessons. She cleared her throat to get his attention.

"Excuse me, sir." Hermione said politely. "I'm new here and I'd like to ask you about the school's lessons to see how they differ from Du - the Muggle school I use to attend." Hermione ended her question by smiling. What was wrong with her? Why does she keep forgetting that she's supposed to be a Muggle born? Hermione mused.

"I'm a Muggle born you see." Hermione confessed, then she repeated the words she had said to Harry and Ron when she met them on the train, "Nobody in my family has magic at all, it was ever such a surprise when I got my letter, but I was ever so pleased, of course, I mean." she nervously added. "Hogwarts, it's the very best school of witchcraft there is, I've heard -" She paused as she heard Neville's names be announced and turned her attention to him.

Hermione pressed her lips together in a frown, while everyone laughed at Neville as he ran off the stool, still wearing the hat. After he jogged back and gave it the Professor McGonagall, Neville took his seat next to Hermione, where she reassured him that it was perfectly normal and everyone gets nervous while being sorted. Hermione comforted him with a warm smile and completely forgot what she was asking the prefect, since her full attention was now on Neville. She asked him about his family and how he felt about being in Hogwarts. Neville shyly answered her, and then went silent as did everyone else in the Great Hall, when they heard Harry Potter's name announced.

Hermione, nervous at the sight of the scared wizard for an unknown reason, took deep breaths and placed her hand over her racing heart to calm it. Then, she felt for the silver locket around her neck and gripped it in her other hand. The locket was a gift from her mother. She recalled her mother saying it was a gift to her from her father. Hermione seldom wore it since the day she was returned to her Aunt Narcisse's manor, because she didn't want to be reminded of her parents and what they did. She took it off her neck and hid it under her bed in a small box, but the next morning, she found it lying beside her on her pillow.

At first Hermione thought it was enchanted to stay with her and decided to test the theory, since the thought frightened her more than she would ever admit. It didn't take her long to find out that the House elf, which was in charge of cleaning her, found the locket and thought she lost it and placed it on her pillow. She scolded it and told it not to do that again. But after a while, Hermione realized that the locket was an inanimate object that she despised just because it was a gift from her parents and it was ridiculous. It was an object, soulless and _un-murderous. _She took it to Hogwarts with her because to her the locket was a representation of her parents and the love they gave her, and at this point; Hermione believed that she needed all the encouragements she could get.

"I do hope they start right away," Hermione continued her conversation with the prefect, where she had left off after searching her mind about what she was speaking to him earlier, "there's so much to learn, I'm particularly interested in Transfiguration, you know, turning something into something else, of course, it's supposed to be difficult -" In truth Hermione and Lavender, already mastered the basics of most of the magical subjects, while spending that one year in Drumstrang.

"You'll be staring small, just matches into needles and that sort of thing." Percy, the prefect, told her.

Hermione nodded and inquired him about the rest of the subjects there, which he gladly answered her.

%

Hermione composed her letter to her uncle as Lavender closed the curtains around her four poster bed for privacy. No one noticed; since they were too busy sorting through their belongings.

_Dear Dad,_

_My first day of school was very exciting._

_I got to meet _the _Harry Potter on the train, along with his mate Ronald Weasley._

_They seem quite close._

_I spoke to him once before, while we were being fitting for our new school robes in Diagon Alley._

_Which I smartly reminded him of._

_I tried to be nice and extend my hand in friendship to him, but he seems unpleasant towards me and my two mates and ignored us._

_His rejection upset me greatly, but hopefully I could redeem myself in his eyes._

_Seeing as we are in the same House._

_Love Always,_

_Hermione_

After Hermione finished her massage, she rolled it up and tied it to a school owl and sent it off. Her massage was simple enough for her uncle to understand that she was informing him of Draco's behavior. She left hints about meeting Potter in the robe shop, which Draco did, because after returning home he whined about the odd boy who traveled with Hogwarts Gamekeeper. And with the clue about her two mates, it was obviously Draco, since Hermione only had one mate with her. In her letter she also informed her uncle of Potter's dislike of Draco and that Potter was now in Gryffindor House, with Weasley being the clue.

%

Hermione and Lavender's days in Hogwarts were what they thought were déjà vu, since they already learned these subjects. But unlike at Drumstrang, Lavender didn't boldly flaunt her intelligence to the class, seeing as it made people prone to pull cruel pranks on her. (Until Lyra put a stop to it.) This time around, Lavender decided to sit back and pretended like she didn't know what she was doing, like the rest of the first years. But it seemed Hermione had other plans.

_Was I really that annoying? _Lavender asked herself as she watched Hermione franticly wave her hand up and smugly answered the professor's questions. For a brief moment, she forgot that Hermione was actually her best friend, Lyra, and felt the sudden urge to slap her hand down from the air. _Gods! No wonder they bullied me! _She thought. _I was soooo irritating!_

In the potions class, Lavender, and the rest of the class, couldn't help but notice their professor's dislike or hatred - was more like it - of Harry Potter. Professor Snape was throwing numerous questions at him - only him - without mercy! And when Neville messed up on his potion, causing boils to appear on his skin, Snape blamed it on Potter? At that moment, Lavender glanced at Hermione who mouthed the word, later, indicating that she will tell her after they are done with class.

Hermione started at Neville as he was taken out of the classroom. She wanted to volunteer to go with him to the Hospital Wing to make sure he was okay, but decided against it. By the looks of Snape; he would say no to everything and anyone. And her uncle told her that Snape was not one to provoke when angry.

"He hates him. A lot." Hermione told Lavender, after the class was over and they hid in a dark alcove in the corridor. Being cautious, Hermione casted a silencing charm around them, even though the corridor was near empty.

"I can see that." Lavender said. "Why?"

"From what I heard: Potter's father stole Professor Snape's girlfriend, during their Hogwarts days."

"Oh my!" Lavender gasped, "And he's been harboring a grudge ever since?"

"As you've witnessed."

"Wow! I mean...He must've really loved her...After all these years..." Lavender said, thinking back to Snape's cold eyes, glaring at Potter. "Did you know how she was like?" She asked, curious at what kind of woman would a person like Snape fall in love with.

"A red headed Muggle born, my uncle says." Hermione replied, translating from what her uncle actually said. _The red headed, Mud blood whore shattered Snape's heart to bits..._

"And her personality?"

"I wasn't told much else. But..."

"But what?"

"I heard," Hermione paused, "it was Potter's mother."

"REALLY!" Lavender exclaimed.

"Granger!"

Both witches jumped, then turned around and spotted their Herbology professor advancing towards them.

"Leave." Hermione commanded.

Without a word, Lavender disappeared down the corridor before Sprout reached Hermione.

"Hello professor." Hermione kindly greeted her.

"I need you to give this to Professor Quirrell." She said, handing her bucket of garlic and left.

Hermione figure she was in a hurry to do something, that's why Sprout told her to make the delivery instead. As she entered the classroom, Hermione couldn't help but cover her nose from the offending odor and it wasn't just the garlic. At that moment, Hermione realized something as she held up the bucket of garlic and stared at it. Was the garlic's scent meant to cover up something in the room? Now that she thought about it, there was a rumor that Quirrell stuffed his classroom, as well as his turban, full of garlic to ward off a vampire he'd met in Romania and was afraid would be coming back to get him one of these days. She didn't believe any of it. Her uncle taught her to not believe everything she heard without solid evidence.

Curiosity getting the better of her, Hermione closed the door behind her and placed the bucket on his desk. She hid herself under a student's desk and waited for him to come and receive the bucket. After waiting a few minutes, Professor Quirrell emerged from his private quarters. He spotted the bucket and grinned.

Hermione watched as his hands reached for the bucket and then his entire body went stiff. Right before that, Hermione thought she heard something, a voice maybe?

"C-Come out, I k-know you're there."

Seeing as she was she caught, Hermione crawled her out from under the desk and dusted her robes.

"Sorry, sir." She apologized, staring at her feet. "I was curious, that's all."

"I-It's a-all right." He said, smiling down at her, and waving her off. "N-Now off you go." He told her as his eye twitched.

Hermione nodded and left the room, but returned seconds later when she realized she had forgotten her school bag.

"Who was it?" Hermione heard a high pitch voice asked, more like hissed.

"A nosy little Mud blood." Quirrell answered clearly, without his usual stutter.

Hermione opened the door just a creak to see who Quirrell was speaking too, but the angle she was at didn't allow her the view.

"You fool! She's at the door!" Shouted the voice.

Hearing the voice, Hermione shut the door and tried to make a run for it. But Quirrell caught her by the sleeve and pulled her into the room and violently threw her on the floor, slamming the door shut. He took out his wand and pointed at Hermione.

"Kill her!" screamed the voice, but no one else was in the room and it seemed to be coming from Quirrell himself.

"You're a Death Eater aren't you?" Hermione asked as she sat on the floor, her gazed instantly fell on his wrist for confirmation.

He didn't bare the tattoo as Hermione's parents and uncles did, but at this moment Quirrell's cold, amusing eyes reminded her very much of her Uncle Barty's whenever they played Hangman. She always wondered why he loved the game so much then… but she knows why now. He was a lunatic.

"Yes, I am." He replied, his wand never wavering from her small form. "Very clever of you Mud bl-"

"Pure blood." Hermione corrected him.

Quirrell inclined his head and stared at Hermione as she lifted herself off the floor and causally dusted her robes as if she was use to being in the presents of a Death Eater, which she was.

"Pure blood?" Quirrell repeated. "How are you a pure blood, Granger?

"Lestrange." Hermione stated before she could stop herself, pulling the chain from under her collar she revealed to him, her locket for verification. "My dad's."

Quirrell gazed at the silver locket without recognition and kept his wand pointed at her.

"Slippery Lucius." The voice suddenly chuckled. "Very sneaky..."

"Master?"

"It's true. She's a Lestrange."

"Lestrange?" Quirrell said as the voice continued to laugh. "Lestrange!" he shouted, his eyes widen as he looked down at Hermione. "I-I didn't know!" he stuttered, quickly putting his wand away. "Your parent!" he exclaimed as he took her hand and shook it. "Wow! A Lestrange!"

Hermione arched her eyebrow and wanted to take a step back, but didn't, because she didn't want to appear cowardly to this Death Eater, who was obvious was a fan of her parents... A big one...

"I-I can't believe this! I got to meet a Lestrange!"

Hermione pressed her lips together and studied the professor. He was beaming, and excited at having met a person of the Lestrange family. Hermione took a step back, since he looked about ready to do cartwheels. _I hope he doesn't_... She'd raced out of this room in a heartbeat if he does.

"I-I'm sorry about earlier. I-I didn't know!" He said, giving her a toothy smile.

Hermione smiled back to be polite and she didn't want to provoke him. For she knew that if she were to ever meet anyone, anywhere, who's a fan of _her _parents; he or she was clearly dangerous.

"It's all right." Hermione said calmly.

"I should have known - you're so intelligent and -"

"Couldn't have come at a better time." replied the voice.

"Yes master, yes!" Quirrell said excitedly, "She can help us."

%

As she prepared for their first flying lesson, Hermione thought back to what Quirrell ordered her to do. No matter what, she had to lead Potter to a chamber on the third-floor, where Dumbledore was hiding an item he was planning to get. She wasn't told what the item was, only that she had to take Potter _there_. Sighing, Hermione sat on her bed, waiting for Lavender, who signaled to her from across the classroom that she needed to talk to her.

"I saw them - Potter and Weasley - walking to the hut, the Gamekeeper's hut, near the forest, and followed them." Lavender told her. "They were complaining about Professor Snape at first - the Game keeper knows about Professor Snape and Potter's mother and didn't want to tell them. Towards the end, Potter was talking about a piece of parchment he found on the table. Then he said, "That Gringotts break-in happened on my birthday! It might have happened while we were there!" I'm not sure what that means, any ideas."

"None yet." Hermione answered honestly. "But I think these things are connected."

"Connected? What are you talking about?"

"Professor Quirrell's a Death Eater."

"What?" Lavender exclaimed, "Quirrell? Death Eater? _How_?"

"I don't know." Hermione shrugged. "But he is. Tried to kill me earlier, when I caught him talking to..."

"Oh my! He tried to kill you?"

"Yes. But as soon as he knew my surname..."

"Why? What did he do?" Lavender grabbed Hermione's arms and examined her for injuries.

"He's a fan of my parents."

Lavender released Hermione and stared at her. "HE'S DERANGED!" As soon as she said it, the witch covered her mouth and quickly apologized. She was indirectly insulting Hermione's parents in saying what she did.

"He is." Hermione agreed.

Sighing in relief, Lavender nodded. "And then what happened?"

"He wants me to aid him and..._The Dark Lord_...in retrieving an item in the third-floor for him."

"The third-floor? You mean the forbidden corridor there that Professor Dumbledore told us not to go to?"

"Yes." Hermione said, and without a hint of an emotion she said, "I think you should leave this school."

"What?" asked Lavender, uncertain that she heard her right.

"I want you to leave this school."

"I - I - NO!"

"He is _here_. In the school, hiding somewhere." Hermione told her.

"So?" inquired Lavender, anticipating what Hermione was about to say.

"No one, except us, knows about you. You can leave without suspicion and fake a death and return to your life." Hermione held up the empty flask and offered it to Lavender to put the memory, of what she just revealed to her, in. This was so that if ever someone tries to see into their mind by using Legilimency he or she could not, because the memories were already taken out.

Lavender stared, wide eyed at Hermione, shocked at what she was saying.

"NO!" Lavender declared, "LY, LY PLEASE!" she sobbed, hugging her, "I want to stay with you! Please don't make me leave!"

"Veralidane." Hermione said, her eyes softening for a moment before they were cold and emotionless once again, "Stop. You can stay, but remember this. From now on, you must be more cautious than before and don't let anyone find out what you know."

%

As Hermione made her way to her first flying lesson, she thought of where the darkest wizard who lived was hiding. He was in the dungeons _that _she was certain of. But she wanted to know where he was when Quirrell was speaking to her. Hermione vividly remembered hearing the high pitched voice coming from Quirrell, but that couldn't be. Quirrell couldn't be...No definitely not...then where is he? The more that she thought about it the more confused she became.

Pushing the thought away, Hermione focused her mind on Draco. He must be excited at the chance to fly and show off his abilities but, now, he's upset because his father owled him and ordered him to return the broom he had sneaked into Hogwarts, home. Lucius claimed it was because he didn't want Draco to get caught and given detention, but in truth he was punishing Draco for his ill behavior with Potter and the fact that he wasn't able to make him his friend. Hermione felt bad about tattling on Draco, but it was all she could do to distract her uncle from the lack of information on Potter she had. But, as of now, Hermione could give her uncle non-Potter related information that she was sure he would want to know. The Dark Lord had returned.

"Well, what are you all waiting for?" barked Madam Hooch. "Everyone stand by a broomstick. Come on, hurry up."

Hermione did as she was told and glanced at her fellow schoolmates. They were nervous; all of them, even if some of them were trying really hard not to show it.

"Stick out your right hand over your broom," called Madam Hooch at the front, "and say 'Up!'"

Lucius Malfoy always complained about Hogwarts' broomsticks, saying that they were used by the ancients and was of poor quality. Hermione could see what he meant, her broomstick simply rolled over on the ground when she tried to direct it up. Her Uncle Lucius had wanted to purchase a new broom for Hermione to take with her, in case the old brooms cause her any accidents, but he changed his mind and told her to not use the broomsticks there at all. She was supposed to be a poor Muggle born, who knew nothing of good quality magical broomsticks, at least that was the image she was going for.

%

Lavender gasped as she saw Neville fall face down on the ground. She turned to Hermione who appeared to be in shock. Hermione eyes were opened and staring at Neville's battered form. Lavender was worried, for she had never seen that look on Hermione's face before. It was a look of pure terror and disbelief. But as soon as the look appeared it disappeared as Hermione blinked and shook her head.

"No!" Hermione caught herself before she got lost in her outburst. "Madam Hooch told us not to move - you'll get us all into trouble."

But no one seemed care what Hermione was saying, except Lavender. As everyone was distracted by Harry and Draco's little flight; she made her way to Hermione and took her hand.

"I'm fine." Hermione whispered to her.

Lavender shook her head. She doesn't believe her. "Was it about your parents?" she guessed.

"Yes," Hermione replied. "I'll tell you about it later." she promised her and signaled for her to return to her spot on the grass as Professor McGonagall ran toward them and took Harry away.

After Professor McGonagall left the Slytherins began wondering out loud about how she would punish Harry. Hermione was far lost into her own thoughts to pay them much attention, as did Lavender, who was trying to figure out what Hermione was thinking.

%

"I envisioned them," Hermione told Lavender, after their disastrous flying class was over and they were alone. "Neville's parents."

Lavender hugged her. "What happened in the past has nothing to do with you. You are not them."

Hermione remained silent as she let Lavender comfort her.

"I cannot bear to face him..."

"Just don't think about it." Lavender kept repeating to her.

Hermione was silently, forcing herself to forget the image of her parents and uncles, torturing nameless faces out of her mind. Hangman… was what Uncle Barty called it. While her father and uncle called it target practice…

Hermione pulled away from Lavender and took the new violin her Uncle Lucius had purchased for her out of its case and begin drawing the bow across the tightly tuned strings.

Normally, whenever Hermione would play an instrument; it would leave the listener to feel relaxed and soothing. But at the moment, Lavender could only shuddered as the hair in the back of her neck raised and the feel of cold, icy winds brushed past her spine as the music echoed through the room. She didn't have much knowledge of music, but Lavender could tell that Hermione was channeling her emotions through her violin. And it was eerie, frightening...and chilled her to the bone. She was freezing, though she was wearing a cloak.

Lavender wanted to leave the room, but did not want to leave Hermione alone, fearing what the angst witch might do. She knows that Hermione constantly focus her mind on other things to force thoughts of her parents away – no normal child could play so many songs on the lyre before they turned nine as Hermione could. She wished she could help Hermione in this predicament of hers. Things have become quite complicated by Hermione having met the darkest wizard who ever lived, and now they don't know how long they have to continue with their double lives.

"I have to find a way to make Potter go to the third floor." Hermione said as she neatly placed the instrument back in its case.

Lavender knew that Hermione was powerful witch, but she never imagine her having such magic. Just by playing her violin, Hermione was able to decrease the temperature in the room, literally. She could see her breath in the air and the room was blanket in a thin line of frost.

"Y - Y - Yes," squealed Lavender, trying desperately to rub some warmth back in her arms.

%

At first, Hermione couldn't think of any way to make Harry go to the third-floor, but as dinner approached she was met by an out of breath Lavender in the middle of the corridor, who had some very interesting bit of information to tell Hermione.

"Seeker?"

"Yes!" Lavender said, trying to catch her breath, "I... just... heard..."

"Draco will have a fit when he hears this." Hermione said the first thought she had at this news, and then, a sudden idea popped in her head. She took out her quill and a piece of parchment and began drafting her letter to Draco.

"What are you doing?" asked Lavender.

"I found a way for Potter to go to the third-floor." Hermione said as she moved aside for Lavender to see what she was writing.

_Dear Draco,_

_Hello my dear little cousin. I hope you are well in your new school._

_Tell me, how are you enjoying that Comet Two Sixty – your trophy - uncle purchased for you?_

_I am quite enjoying my new Moontrimmer – my trophy. It _does _fly higher than any one on the Quidditch team here, as promised._

_Uncle wouldn't let me join the dueling club that just opened. He fears the wizards here would accidently injure me. How unreasonably unfair of him to love me so much!_

_I'm very distressed that I have nothing to do but sit around and polish my Moontrimmer, my trophy, and fly it around the castle._

_Love you always my future husband_

Lavender giggled as she read the last line. "He's going to have a fit for sure."

"That's what I'm hoping for." Hermione said as she folded the parchment.

Every sentence in her letter was meant to provoke Draco in one way or another. The first line was an obvious indication. Draco hates it when she calls him little, just because he's a hair shorter than her. She reminded him of how scared he was of going to Hogwarts, and his Comet Two Sixty, which was recently taken away from him, was sure to cause him to have a few nasty tantrums. And she made certain to rub in the fact that she was enjoying her new broom and how much his father cared for her. She wrote of a made up dueling club to plant the idea in his head to challenge someone to a duel. She also used the word _trophy _multiple timesto make him think of the trophy room, which is on the third-floor.

%

Draco had never disappointed Hermione. She and Lavender watched as everything went according to plan. Now, all that's left was for her to make sure Harry goes to his appointment.

"Excuse me." Hermione said, getting Harry and Ron's attention.

"Can't a person eat in peace in this place?" said Ron, but Hermione ignored him, focusing her attention on Harry.

"I couldn't help overhearing what you and Malfoy were saying -"

"Bet you couldn't," Ron muttered.

"- and you mustn't go wondering around the school at night, think of the points you'll lose Gryffindor if you're caught, and you're bound to be. It's selfish of you." Hermione said in the bossiest and whining tone she could muster.

The boys rudely departed from her annoying presence and left her at the table. Hermione's eyes light up at the determined look on their faces. If Draco ever taught her one thing; it was that the more you try to stop a boy from doing something, the more he'll want to do it.

%

"A three-headed dog?" Lavender gasped.

Hermione nodded. "Yes."

"So that's why it was forbidden." Lavender said to herself. "The professors are keeping a dangerous indoor pet away from the students so they can train it for -"

"Lavender." Hermione stopped her before her mind began to wonder to non-related subjects.

"Yes?"

"The dog is kept to guard something." Hermione said, bring out a cut off article of the Daily Prophet from her bag, "I believe it has something to do with this."

Lavender took the parchment and read the article. "The break-in in Gringotts!"

"Nothing was missing, because the vault was emptied right before the robbery. I believe the item was placed in Hogwarts and it is what the dog is guarding and what _he _wants."

"I don't understand." Lavender muttered.

"You don't understand what?"

"Why the greatest dark wizard," she quoted from most of the articles she had read about him, "can't get the item himself? Why does he need Potter?"

"I think Potter is meant to be back up. In case he can't get the item, he uses Potter as a hostage and threatens Professor Dumbledore to give it to him. Or he kills him." Hermione finished nonchalantly.

Lavender would have been unsettled by this, if she wasn't so use to Hermione's nonchalant tone, when speaking of unusual subjects.

"By the way, I received a reply from Draco." Hermione said, giving Lavender the parchment.

_Dear Evil cousin,_

_Why are you owling me?_

_Stop it._

_D_

Lavender burst into laughter at Draco's words. "Bet it took him all night to come up with this!"

"Probably." Hermione shrugged, "Think I should reply?"

"Defiantly!" Lavender exclaimed. She loved how easily Hermione could rattle Draco up.

Hermione took out a quill and began composing her reply.

_Dear Draco,_

_Do you really want me to start calling you that? D?_

_If that's what you want, from this day forward I shall call you Little D, or do you prefer Big D?_

_Reply soon,_

_PS: I prefer _Supreme _Evil cousin, if you'll please._

Minutes after Hermione owled her letter, she received Draco's reply.

_Dear _Supreme _Evil cousin,_

_I HATE YOU!_

_Don't reply,_

_PS: Call me Draco._

Hermione and Lavender held their sides as they laughed.

%

"End of lesson, class dismiss." announced McGonagall, waving the students out.

Hermione waited until she saw the last person leave before she approached her professor's desk.

"Granger?" said McGonagall, looking up from her paperwork.

"Professor..." Hermione hesitated, "Is it all right if I..."

"Speak up, I can barely understand you." McGonagall said, gazing at Hermione over her glasses.

Hermione flushed and stuttered her words, "May-may I sp-speak to you about...about what had - has re-recently happened -"

"Yes, out with it. What is it that has happened to you?"

Hermione took a deep breath and asked, "Professor, I have some questions I would like to ask you, may I?"

"Yes." McGonagall answered her, "Lessons or homework?"

"Neither...I have questions of a...a feminine nature." Hermione murmured while staring down at her feet.

McGonagall stared at Hermione for several minutes before she began blinking again after she understood her meaning. She looked at the timid young witch and said, "I..." she coughed, "I think Madam Pomfrey - you should see Madam Pomfrey for those - um - questions of yours. She can explain them better than I."

"But professor...I want to ask you..." Hermione turned her gaze from her feet and looked up at the elder witch. "I've come so...so far from home...my mother...I want to ask her...but she isn't here - if only she were here. I can ask her but she's not - I don't want to ask her over an owl - I – you're the closet thing that I have to one." Hermione finished slyly.

The elder's eyes soften at Hermione's words; she took out piece of parchment. "Would you like to speak with your mother in person, dear?"

Hermione lowered her eyes and smiled anxiously, "May I?"

"Of course you may." McGonagall said, signing the parchment and handing it to her.

Hermione thanked her professor before she left the classroom. With the permission from her Head of House, Hermione could arrange a meeting with her Uncle Lucius and inform him of her meeting of his old dark lord.

%

Hermione studied her uncle's impassive face after she had revealed to him that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was not dead, and was hiding out in Hogwarts. He was shocked at first, but that disappeared as soon as it came and was replaced with his usual impassive one.

"He's back..." Lucius murmured, gazing down at Hermione, who was sitting in front of his desk.

"Yes," Hermione answered. "I didn't see him in person, but I heard his voice."

"How did you meet him again? Are you _certain _it was him?"

"I didn't meet him in person, but I heard his voice." Hermione repeated, "He was in the room with me, yet I couldn't see him… And he knew about you."

Lucius noticeably flinched at this knowledge.

"He knew, before I even said anything. Also, he wants me to help him retrieve an item."

"An item?"

"He has not told me of yet."

"Do as he says." Lucius ordered her, without showing a hint of worry for her wellbeing, "I am confident, he shall inform you of _all _the information you need, soon enough."

%

This chapter was self explanatory. If you have any questions message or review me.

The beginning was a summary in Hermione's pov. She's nervous and worry, like when she was at Andromeda's house, she is out of her safe/comfort zone. It took her awhile to adjust, but she did, because she knows she has too.

As for Harry wanting to be in Gryffindor House, I explained that in the previous chapter.

Lavender/Veralidaine is upset at the lost of her friend. She believes she is the one who saved Hermione from her ill past. She believes Hermione needs her, which she does, to keep her stable and carefree through this.

I throw in Lavender's pov, viewing Hermione's behavior because I always thought about how funny it is that people do all this crazy and annoying things but they don't realized it, until they see other people do it. Or see themselves recorded on camera…

Lucius knows about Snape and Lily's relation from when they were in school – come on – I bet you James thought Lily and Snape were dating too! That's why Sirius said Snape was a sore spot for James.

Quirrell and garlic, honestly it took me the second time reading it to figure that out. And let's not forget about Harry's dream about the talking turban telling him, he's better off in Slytherin. I think Voldemort was doing things to him, or their connection was manifesting, or subconsciously the – sorry spoiler – Voldemort's soul that's in Harry subconsciously was trying to communicate with Harry but it came to Harry as a turban, because subconsciously Harry knew something was not right with Quirrell and his turban. But Snape's attitude towards him threw him off. That's what I think.

Hermione told Quirrell she was a pureblood, because he would surely kill her. He thought she was a Muggle born after all. She accidently told him she was a Lestrange because she was nervous. And afterwards she was like 'what the heck' and went with it.

Hermione violin, I was listening to the creepy Labyrinth song while writing that part and described what I was feeling. I'm not a musician, but I know that they often – the really good ones – channel their emotions in the music and instrument and the audience can feel it. It happened to me once and I was crying my eyes out for an unknown reason. It was like magic. And when I hear the melody being played by anyone else I don't feel anything.

Hermione/Draco…She makes fun of his name, like when Harry makes fun of Dudley's at the park with his friends. Ah…cousins…

I threw in some mystery in the story if you haven't noticed… (Hint: Horcrux)


	6. The Sorcerer's Stone II

Lavender waited patiently in her dorm room for Hermione to return from her visit to her uncle. She wished Hermione's uncle would realize how dangerous this mission of theirs was becoming and call off the whole thing, and then she and Hermione could return to their old lives. But secretly, she wished he wouldn't and let them continue with their mission. Things have gotten quite exciting ever since she learned of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named's return, though it did terrify her.

"He's keeping something from me." said Hermione to Lavender as she entered her dorm.

"Who?" asked Lavender, "Your uncle?" she guessed.

"Yes."

"Any idea what it is?" inquired Lavender, but as soon as she saw the pensive look on Hermione's face she quickly went to her side and asked her what was wrong.

Hermione inhaled deeply and sat on her bed. "I'm not..."

"You're not what?" Lavender cautiously asked her. She was curious of Hermione's strange behavior.

Hermione didn't answer and simply lay on her bed and closed her eyes.

%

Hermione continued her facade of an overbearing Muggle born but as of late her thoughts were on what she had found out. At the end of her discussion with her uncle, Hermione excused herself, and asked if she could go to her room and retrieve her lyre, since she was growing bored of the violin. That was when Lucius offered to purchase her a new instrument of her choosing, but Hermione declined and went to her room. She did retrieve her lyre, but Hermione had excused herself for another reason. She wanted to review the memories of her childhood, her memories of her parents to be exact. And through that she was able to uncover the truth. What she had witnessed and heard explained a lot to her. It explained why her uncle and her aunt were cautious of her at times and why they favored her over Draco.

"Are you all right, Hermione?" inquired Lavender, who felt insecure and helpless to help Hermione. Hermione had been more silent than usual and Lavender respected her need for space so she left her to her own thoughts. During those times she had been spending a lot of time with Paverti Patil, a fellow dorm mate she had recently befriended. Paverti was wonderful, they could talk about anything and everything for hours. Lavender did enjoy her company but... Paverti was not Lyra.

"I'm fine."

"But -" Lavender snapped her mouth shut after catching Hermione's eyes. By the look in her eyes, Lavender knew that she didn't want to talk about it and not to bring it up again. But her curiosity was killing her. She wanted to ask Hermione what happened at her uncle's manor and why did it have such an effect on her like this, but Hermione had her lips sealed tight and had closed herself off. She knew Hermione hadn't slept well in days, though her bed curtains were closed, she could tell. And she has caught tears cascading her cheeks at odd times, recently. Others have not noticed it as of yet, since they didn't watch Hermione as closely as she did.

"Are you going down to the Great Hall for the Halloween feast?" asked Lavender, hopefully. She thought she could use this opportunity to sit with her with the excuse of holiday greetings.

"No, Quirrell told me to wait alone in the girls' bathroom through the feast."

Lavender's face fell at her reply and she gasped, "You can't go - what if he plans to hurt you!"

"If he wanted to hurt me then, he would've done so a long time ago. Besides, he told me he had a fool proof plan for me to get close to Harry Potter."

"What's the plan?"

"He didn't say." Hermione said, "Also I need you to causally mention that I'm in the girls' bathroom, alone, make sure Potter's in hearing distant."

"All right," Lavender gave Hermione a determined look and set forth to complete her mission in the Great Hall. She was excited that Hermione finally spoke more than a few words to her.

Hermione made her way to the bathroom and picked out a stall to sit and wait in. While there, she pondered what Quirrell's plans were. How was she going to get close to Potter, seeing as she was quite rude and bossy to him? And if Hermione knew anything about boys...They'll despise her, especially the Weasely. Tired from lack of sleep and overworking herself, Hermione left the stall to splash some icy cold water on her face. After wiping the liquid from her face with her hands, Hermione's senses were assaulted by a foul stench. What it was Hermione couldn't tell, for she had never smelled anything like it. The stench was so dreadful that it made Hermione's stomach clench and she retched a few times. Hermione covered her nose and held her breath so she wouldn't faint.

A low grunt was heard, as was the shuffling footfalls of gigantic feet coming from outside the door. It also sounded like something large was being scraped across the stone floor. Hermione's head snapped to the door when she heard it open. It was a horrible sight. Twelve feet tall, its skin was a dull, granite gray, its great lumpy body like a boulder with its small bald head perched on top like a coconut. It had short legs thick as tree trunks with flat, horny feet. The smell coming from it was incredible. It was holding a huge wooden club, which dragged along the floor because its arms were so long. The troll waggled its long ears, and slouched slowly into the room. Hermione was frightened and in shock, but she managed to hold in her scream. Slowly and as silently as she could, she stepped away from the sink, her mind frantically searching for a hiding place before the troll could spot her. She told herself she was going to be fine as long as she didn't lose control of herself. She could make it to the door and escape and then lock it in the bathroom. But all of hopes were lost the moment she heard the door slam shut and the clicking of the lock. Her control lost, Hermione gave out a high, petrified scream. Upon hearing her screams, the troll spotted her and was advancing on her, knocking the sinks off the walls as it went.

Hermione was petrified, she couldn't move even if she wanted too. And she didn't even hear Harry and Ron enter.

"Confuse it!" Harry said desperately to Ron, and, seizing a tap, he threw it as hard as he could against the wall.

The troll stopped a few feet from Hermione. It lumbered around, blinking stupidly, to see what had made the noise. Its' mean little eyes saw Harry. It hesitated, then made for him instead, lifting its club as it went.

"Oi, pea-brain!" yelled Ron from the other side of the chamber, and he threw a metal pipe at it. The troll didn't even seem to notice the pipe hitting its shoulder, but it heard the yell and paused again, turning its ugly snout toward Ron instead, giving Harry time to run around it.

"Come on, run, run!" Harry yelled at Hermione, trying to pull her toward the door, but she couldn't move, she was still flat against the wall, her mouth wide with terror.

The shouting and the echoes seemed to be driving the troll berserk. It roared again and started toward Ron, who was nearest and had no way to escape. Harry then did something that was both very brave and very stupid: He took a great running jump and managed to fasten his arms around the troll's neck from behind. The troll couldn't feel Harry hanging there, but even a troll will notice if you stick a long bit of wood up its nose, and Harry's wand had still been in his hand when he'd jumped - it had gone straight up one of the troll's nostrils. Howling with pain, the troll twisted and flailed its club, with Harry clinging on for dear life; any second, the troll was going to rip him off or give him a terrible blow with the club. Hermione had sunk to the floor in fright; Ron pulled out his own wand - not knowing what he was going to do he heard himself cry the first spell that came into his head:

"Wingardium Leviosa!"

The club flew suddenly out of the troll's hand, rose high, high up into the air, turned slowly over - and dropped, with a sickening crack, onto its owner's head. The troll swayed on the spot and then fell flat on its face, with a thud that made the whole room tremble.

Harry got to his feet. He was shaking and out of breath. Ron was standing there with his wand still raised, staring at what he had done. It was Hermione who spoke first.

"Is it - dead?"

"I don't think so," said Harry, "I think it's just been knocked out." He bent down and pulled his wand out of the troll's nose. It was covered in what looked like lumpy gray glue. "Urgh - troll boogers." He wiped it on the troll's trousers.

A sudden slamming and loud footsteps made the three of them look up. They hadn't realized what a racket they had been making, but of course, someone downstairs must have heard the crashes and the troll's roars. A moment later, Professor McGonagall came bursting into the room, closely followed by Snape, with Quirrell bringing up the rear. Quirrell took one look at the troll, let out a faint whimper, and sat quickly down on a toilet, clutching his heart.

At the sight of the whimpering professor, Hermione remembered how he had sent her to the bathroom and realized that this whole thing - the troll - was a part of his plan. Was he trying to kill her? Because this plan of his was too far-fetch for her to get close to Potter. Hermione glared at Quirrell, who met her gaze and gave her a sharp nod, and glanced at McGonagall. Hermione continued to glare at him for a little while longer before she did what he was silently urging her to do.

She looked, and saw Professor Snape bent over the troll and McGonagall was looking at Ron and Harry, not noticing her, since she was so focused on the boys up front.

"What on earth were you thinking of?" said Professor McGonagall, with cold fury in her voice. "You're lucky you weren't killed. Why aren't you in your dormitory?"

Snape gave Harry a swift, piercing look.

"Please, Professor McGonagall - they were looking for me." Hermione stepped up and told her.

"Miss Granger!" Professor McGonagall gasped.

"I went looking for the troll because I - I thought I could deal with it on my own - you know, because I've read all about them." Hermione began making up a story, "If they hadn't found me, I'd be dead now. Harry stuck his wand up its nose and Ron knocked it out with its own club. They didn't have time to come and fetch anyone. It was about to finish me off when they arrived."

"Well - in that case..." said Professor McGonagall, staring at the three of them, "Miss Granger, you foolish girl, how could you think of tackling a mountain troll on your own?"

Hermione hung her head in shame at upsetting her favorite professor.

"Miss Granger, five points will be taken from Gryffindor for this," said Professor McGonagall. "I'm very disappointed in you. If you're not hurt at all, you'd better get off to Gryffindor tower. Students are finishing the feast in their houses."

Hermione left without a word and set off to find Lavender to tell her of the events that just occurred.

%

Hermione marched to her dorm room without stopping, and waited for Lavender to join her.

"What happened?" asked Lavender, after warding the door and casting a silencing charm. "Quirrell said a troll got in!"

"Yes, the troll he brought it in."

"What? Oh! Ly, Ly!" exclaimed Lavender, embracing Hermione.

"He sent the troll into the bathroom to attack me."

Lavender squealed.

"Potter and Weasely came in and saved the day."

"Wow! That's so heroic - tell me! Please - you have to tell me every detail!"

And so, Hermione recounted her experience in detail and soothe a tear fell Lavender, who was terrified for her safety. Soon, Hermione told her to let go. She had to wait for Potter and Weasely by the door to properly thank them. As time went by, Hermione saw that Querrill's scheme actually worked: Harry and Ron accepted her as a friend because of the troll incident, thinking she was overly grateful to them. She confronted Quirrell of the danger he placed her in, but he only sobbed saying that his master made him and he knew she would be all right since she _was_ a Lestrange after all. Hermione stared at him for a moment and returned to her dorm to think his words over.

"I still think he was trying to kill you." Lavender stated.

"He was not." said Hermione.

"What do you mean Ly,Ly - he sent a mountain troll on you!"

"The troll and I were meant to be a distraction, while he observed the three headed dog."

"How'd you find that out?"

"Walls talk."

%

"This is too hard!" exclaimed Ron, throwing his quill on the desk and rubbed his eyes.

Harry and Hermione looked up from their books and sighed. It was late in the afternoon and they were in the middle of doing their homework.

"What part do you not understand?" asked Hermione. She placed a bookmark inside her book and went to sit in front of Ron and his books. "I'll help you." she said, meeting his eyes.

"Well... thanks." said Ron, reaching his hand out.

Hermione picked up his parchment to look it over when she noticed Ron's hand.

"Yes?" she asked.

"Your homework?" he hesitantly asked her.

"Oh..." Hermione blinked, understanding his meaning, "You want to copy it?"

"Yeah..." Ron nodded, wondering why she was asking him. She was the one offered to help him after all.

"No." said Hermione, firmly.

"What? But you said-"

"I said 'I would help you' _not_ I'll let you copy my work."

"So...you're not going to let me copy it?"

"How will you learn?"

"By looking at yours?" stated Ron.

Harry looked from Ron to Hermione. Clearly, from the angry look in Hermione's face and Ron's determined one, things were going to get ugly. It looked like one of them was going to jump over the table and attack the other.

"How nice of you to offer your help, Hermione." said Harry, slamming his book on the table loud enough to get their attention, "I already finished mine. Would you read it through for me too?"

Hermione took one last look at Ron and turned to Harry, "I'd loved too." she said, taking his parchment.

Tired of doing his own homework, without the help from Hermione that he thought he was going to get, Ron suggested they go out for a short walk. Hermione had conjured up the bright blue fire inside a jam jar because Ron wouldn't stop complaining about the cold weather, even though he was the one who suggest they take the break, and Harry was shivering. Professor Snape came upon them, with a noticeable limp, and scolded Harry about taking library books outside of the school. Hermione arched an eyebrow to this. The book belonged to her uncle's library, not the school. She was about ready to say that, but thought better of it and kept her mouth closed. After Snape confiscated it and left, Hermione could not help but think that he was being childish and petty. She also agreed with Harry that Snape just made that rule up.

Harry was restless for the rest of the day. Hermione and Ron were by his side, but both kept their mouths shut for they knew how upset he was. They also did not want to be the one Harry would vent his frustrations out on. They made their way back to the common room and sat next to a window as they try to finish the rest of their homework.

"I'm going to get it back!" declared Harry as he stood from his chair.

"Better you than me," Hermione and Ron said together. Both stopped what they were doing and awkwardly looked at each other. It was the first time they ever agreed on something and it felt unsettling to the both of them. Hermione went back to looking through the rest of Harry's homework, hoping this incident would never happen again. Ron blinked a few times, making certain that no one was watching and took one last look at Hermione before returning to his homework.

Sometime after Harry departed, Hermione realized that she should have stopped him. She could have told him that if he defied Snape; Snape might give him detention on the dates of his Quidditch practice in order to torture him and make him unprepared for when he plays his games. Harry liked Quidditch so much that it would have stopped him from pulling a stunt like this. But alas, she was only there to observe him, not babysit him. If Harry wanted to be a troublemaker, then go right ahead. She wouldn't get in his way as long as it doesn't affect her.

"Did you get it?" Ron asked as Harry joined them.

Harry was sweating and his hair was more of a mess than usual.

"What's the matter?" Hermione asked.

In a low whisper, Harry told them what he'd seen. Snape and Filch were inside the staffroom, alone. Snape was holding his robes above his knees. One of his legs was bloody and mangled. Filch was handing Snape bandages. Snape was mumbling about being attacked by the three headed dog.

"You know what this means." he finished breathlessly. "He tried to get past that three-headed dog at Halloween! That's where he was going when we saw him - he's after whatever it's guarding! And I'd bet my broomstick that he let that troll in to make a diversion!"

Hermione's eyes were wide. Harry was more intelligent than what she gave him credit for. He figured out the plan already, only he didn't have the real culprit. It was Quirrell, not Snape who was behind all this. Though, she couldn't blame Harry for guessing wrong. Standing next to Snape would make Quirrell look like a helpless little worm. If only Harry knew the truth. Not that she was going to tell him. Quirrell would kill her, not to mention He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. She could only imagine what he's going to do to her.

"No - he wouldn't," Hermione said, in an attempt to defend their Potions professor and pull Harry into the right track, without actually telling him. "I know he's not very nice, but he wouldn't try and steal something Dumbledore was keeping safe." Did that sound as lame to them as it sounded to her?

"Honestly, Hermione, you think all teachers are saints or something," snapped Ron.

_Yeah right…_thought Hermione. Teachers are people too and they are equally susceptible to the desire for power and greed as anyone of them.

"I'm with Harry. I wouldn't put anything past Snape. But what's he after. What's that dog guarding?"

That was the same thing Hermione wanted to know…what was the dog guarding?

%

Ron and Hermione joined Neville, Seamus, and Dean, the West Ham fan up in the top row. As a surprise for Harry, they had painted a large banner on one of the sheets Scabbers had ruined. It said Potter for President, and Dean, who was good at drawing, had done a large Gryffindor lion underneath. Then Hermione had performed a tricky little charm so that the paint flashed different colors. Hermione didn't understand what the banner meant, but Dean claimed it was a Muggle thing, when Ron asked, and that it would encourage Harry to win the game.

Hermione looked at Lavender, who was busy talking to Parvati. She was happy for her, Lavender finally made new friends and was learning how to be independent. She was much more confident than Hermione remembered and was not letting people push her around.

%

The game between Gryffindor and Slytherin progressed as any Quidditch would, dirty and violent. Hermione was not paying the game much attention as she was with Harry. She thought it was odd how her eyes would wander to Harry. Hermione brushed it off as her being worried about him. It was his first game after all, and Seekers were the most targeted, since they decide when the game would end and who gets the final one-hundred- and fifty points.

Hermione gasped seeing the Bludger nearly missing Harry's head and when his broom gave a sudden, frightening lurch. At first she thought he made his broom lurch on purpose in order to dodge the Bludger but soon she began to feel that something was not right with Harry, when the broom lurched again. It was as though the broom was trying to buck him off. Hermione bit her bottom lip as she watched Harry zigzagging through the air, and every now and then making violent swishing movements that almost unseated him. His broom had started to roll over and over, with him only just managing to hold on. The crowd around her gasped as they finally noticed Harry and his odd movements. Harry's broom had given a wild jerk and Harry swung off it. He was now dangling from it, holding on with only one hand. Hermione thought her heart had stopped from the sight of him dangling there.

"Can't nothing interfere with a broomstick except powerful Dark magic - no kid could do that to a Nimbus Two Thousand." Said Hagrid.

At these words, Hermione snapped out of her trace and seized Hagrid's binoculars, looking frantically at the crowd. Quirrell! She had to find Quirrell! As soon as she placed the binoculars on her face, Hermione spotted Quirrell in the stands opposite them. He had his eyes fixed on Harry and was muttering nonstop under his breath as was Snape, who was a few rolls behind him.

"I knew it," Hermione gasped, and turned to see Ron giving her an inquisitive stare, "Snape - look." She said quickly. Hermione held her breath, hoping he wouldn't see Quirrell.

"He's doing something - jinxing the broom," said Hermione.

"What should we do?"

"Leave it to me."

Before Ron could say another word, Hermione had disappeared. Hermione fought her way across to the stand where Quirrell stood, and was racing along the row behind him. She knocked Quirrell headfirst into the row in front and kept going. Reaching Snape, she crouched down, pulled out her wand, and whispered a few, well- chosen words. Bright blue flames shot from her wand onto the hem of Snape's robes. It took perhaps thirty seconds for Snape to realize that he was on fire. A sudden yelp told her she had done her job. Scooping the fire off him into a little jar in her pocket, she scrambled back along the row - Snape would never know what had happened.

Hermione was making her way to back to her seat when Quirrell grabbed her arm and pulled her behind the stands, demanding to know why she had knocked him over.

"Ron and Harry!" Hermione said him, "They wanted me to avenge Harry because Snape took his book, Quidditch Through the Ages. Sorry sir, it was a dare. If I didn't do it, they wouldn't become be my friends. I did it here because there's a large crowd and Snape won't spot me easily." She told him the truth of yesterday's events and added her friendship with Harry to throw him off. She knew he would have understand and believe her story, her mission was to be with Harry at all cost. For her to be with Harry; she'll have to please him in order to stay. And boys do have the tendency to dare their friends to do embarrassing and dangerous tasks.

"Very well," said Quirrell, releasing his grip on her arm. "Return to them." He said, before departing a least angry than he was before.

Hermione let out a breath of relief and joined her fellow Gryffindor in cheering of their victory.

%

Hermione was not surprised when Hagrid attempted to defend Snape when Ron told him about Snape trying to jinx Harry off him broom. Hermione had surrendered her attempt to defend Snape a long time ago, since Harry was too thick to listen to her. It seemed that he was truly had his heart set on framing Snape. There was nothing she could do at this point. Hermione was also not surprised that Hagrid knew of the three headed-dog, Fluffy. From the stories she had heard of the infamous gamekeeper, Fluffy was the least of their worries. Her Uncle Lucius once told her that fifty years ago, Hagrid let lose a horrible unknown creature about the castle. The creature devoured a girl and petrified six students. It was not reported on the Daily Prophet because the school did not want to lose its credibility. They kept the story quiet by paying off the victims' families. Hagrid was expelled, but Dumbledore gave him permission to stay on the school as its gamekeeper, claiming he felt sorry for him having no place else to go. Lucius theorized that Dumbledore was probably keeping the half-giant as a figure to intimidate the Ministry and show that he could overthrow them with his hidden army of mountain giants if they tried to interfere with his plans of letting disgusting Muggles attend the school.

"Now, don't ask me anymore," said Hagrid gruffly. "That's top secret, that is."

"But Snape's trying to steal it."

"Rubbish," said Hagrid again. "Snape's a Hogwarts teacher, he'd do nothin' of the sort."

"So why did he just tried to kill Harry." cried Hermione. She figured if it was what Harry wanted, might as well go along with it to not cause any disputes between them. "I know a jinx when I see one, Hagrid, I've read all about them! You've got to keep eye contact, and Snape wasn't blinking at all, I saw him!" She noticed that under pressure, Hagrid would get nervous and slip. If this kept up, she'd have some useful information to give to Quirrell and her uncle.

"I'm tellin' yeh, yer wrong!" said Hagrid hotly. "I don' know why Harry's broom acted like that, but Snape wouldn' try an' kill a student! Now, listen to me, all three of yeh - yer meddlin' in things that don' concern yeh. It's dangerous. You forget that dog, an' you forget what it's guardin', that's between Professor Dumbledore an' Nicolas Flamel -"

"Aha!" said Harry, "so there's someone called Nicolas Flamel involved, is there."

Hagrid looked furious with himself.

Hermione mentally smiled, Harry was doing all the work for her and he didn't even know it.

%

As Christmas approached, Hermione, and everyone else, could not help but notice Draco was being even more unpleasant than usual. She knew that he was upset over Harry not only becoming a Seeker during his first year but also how he miraculously won the first game he ever played. She wanted to comfort Draco as Lyra, but did not want him to find out her secret. Also, she didn't have any sympathy towards him after witnessing how he has been treating his schoolmates, mainly Harry. That was the day Hermione began to wonder if his father was not there, would Draco have treated her as poorly as he would Harry. Would he taunt her about her parents? Not to her face he wouldn't…behind her back, secretly he might…

The thought saddened Hermione. Draco was one of the few people she truly loved, despite her constant teasing of him. If he were to really say those harsh words, even in secret, of her parents; she thought she would die that instant and her love for him would dissolve into nothing.

Hermione turned to Harry and Ron, reminding of their planned visit to the library. Hagrid tried to derailed them from their research after he found out that they were searching for Nicolas Flamel, the name he accidently let slip. But it didn't stop Harry; in fact it seemed to fuel his efforts. They searched and they searched, but to no avail. Harry and Ron were becoming frustrated and tired, since they had been spending all their free time in the library.

Hermione felt bad for not revealing to Harry and Ron that she already knew who Flamel was. After hearing the name, Hermione quickly sent an owl to her uncle and asked him to send her every book or news clipping on Professor Dumbledore he could find, claiming that she wanted to get to know their enemy a little more. It was then that she found Flamel's name and information. Nicolas Flamel is a well-known alchemist and only known maker of the Sorcerer's Stone, or the Elixir of Life, a legendary substance with incredible powers. He was a close friend and partner with Hogwarts School Headmaster Albus Dumbledore.

The Elixir of Life was what Quirrell wants for his lord. The Sorcerer's Stone was a legendary substance with astonishing powers. The stone could transform any metal into pure gold. It also produces the Elixir of Life, which will make the drinker immortal. There have been many reports of the Sorcerer's Stone over the centuries, but the only Stone currently in existence belongs to Mr. Nicolas Flamel, the noted alchemist and opera lover. Mr. Flamel, who celebrated his six hundred and sixty-fifth birthday last year, enjoys a quiet life in Devon with his wife, Perenelle (six hundred and fifty-eight).

Hermione was more curious than she ever was before. Why does Quirrell want the stone for, since the Dark Lord is still alive? Or is he? Hermione thought back to the day when she had her first encounter with him. She knew that there was something not quite right about that day. The voice, the voice of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named; it was coming from Quirrell, and no one else was there! The only reason, Hermione could think of was that he was wearing an invisible cloak and was hiding in the school. But wanting to be certain, Hermione rushed to the library to research and see if she could find some more clues as to why she could not see him.

On her way there she saw something flying at her, it was Peeves. Hermione dodged him and continued to sprint to the library.

"Bothersome ghost!" she muttered under her breath.

Hermione halted as she realized something and fell head first on to the floor.

"Hermione!" exclaimed Lavender. She rushed to Hermione's side and helped her up.

"What happened?" asked Parvati. She and Lavender just turned a corner when she happened to see Hermione there, on the floor.

"Nothing! I fell." Hermione told them and clutched her head, trying to remember what she had realized before she fell.

"Come you need to go to the Hospital wing." declared Lavender and dragged Hermione away.

Parvati followed suit, but Lavender stopped her and told her; she could take Hermione by herself. By the worried look on Hermione's face, Lavender knew something was up and didn't want Parvati to get in the way.

"What's the matter?" asked Lavender, pulling Hermione into the bathroom and warding it.

"I forgot," said Hermione, "I just had it and I forgot!"

"Forgot what?"

"I don't know, but it's there. I just can't remember."

Lavender was worried for Hermione. She was ranting like a lunatic and not giving her a clue as to what she meant.

"I was running, and then Peeves -" Hermione gasped, then her lips slowly curled into a smiled.

"What? What is it?"

"He's a ghost." Hermione told her.

"Who?"

"_Him_, that's why I couldn't see him."

"Who?"

"He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named." Hermione whispered.

Lavender gasped, "You mean…he's?"

"Dead, but he's a ghost or a zombie now and he wants to be human again. He told Quirrell to get him the stone – the Sorcerer's Stone!"

"Sorcerer's Stone?" repeated Lavender.

"The stone is what the dog is guarding. It's a key ingredient to a potion that grants the drinker eternal life or eternal youth and was also said to be able to create life."

Lavender gasped. "So he wants to be immortal."

%

As a Christmas present, Hermione left Harry a large box of Chocolate Frogs. She hoped that he would get Dumbledore's card and see Nicolas Flamel's name there. Dumbledore cards were very common, Harry's bound to find at least four of them. That way they could move faster and gain an upper hand over Quirrell. As for Ron, she left him a box of Every Flavor Beans. Hermione had thought it over and decided to be on Harry's side, for she knew what fate lied ahead of them if Quirrell were to success.

Veralidaine laughed as they made their way to Malfoy Manor inside the carriage, Lucius sent for them.

"I had my doubts, but it was really fun." She told her, "Being Lavender is amazing."

"It's troublesome, but being Hermione is exciting...sometimes…"

"How can it not? You get to spent all that time with Harry Potter." Veralidaine batted her eyes, "What's he like, personally?"

Lyra remembered Veralidaine had asked her this question before, in the Hogwarts Express train. Back then, she didn't know Harry, therefore she answered from what she had observed as an outsider. But now, she could answer her question as a friend of Harry's.

"Troublesome, nosy, blindly courageous, recklessly bold…" and the list went on.

Veralidaine opened her mouth to speak but didn't want to interrupt Lyra and all she could say was 'wow.'

As they near the manor, Lyra discontinued her list and stared out the window.

"Ready?" Veralidaine asked her.

"Always." Replied Lyra.

"Welcome home, love." Narcissa Malfoy said, embracing Lyra.

"I missed you." Lyra said to her and kissed cheek.

Veralidaine smiled sweetly at the elder woman, "You look lovely as always madam."

Narcissa looked from one girl to another. She was astonished by both girls' transformations in just a few months. Lyra was much livelier than before, in contrast to her usual emotionless self. Lyra had a warm and friendly air around her and her face showed more than one expression. Veralidaine was much more charming and less plain. Normally Narcissa hardly noticed her. She knew the girl simply as Lyra's playmate. But Veralidaine wasn't hiding behind Lyra like she did whenever in their presents and lowering her head anymore. The girl was standing next to Lyra with her head held high. Narcissa didn't know if she was happy or sad that her beloved niece was maturing before her eyes. If Lyra had grown at a rate such as this, than how would Draco be?

"Mum!" Draco shouted, jumping out of the carriage and hugging his mother.

"Welcome home, love."

"Mum! May I bring my broom back to school?" Draco asked, with an expecting look on his face.

"Oh, Draco," Narcissa kissed his head. He hadn't changed a bit.

"As I said before, absolutely not," drawled Lucius, walking up behind Draco from the carriage. He looked down at his son, who was trying to trick his wife into over ruling him. "Off to your room, now."

Draco pressed out his bottom lip and pouted his way to his room.

Seeing what had transpired down stair, Veralidaine giggled.

"What?" Lyra curiously asked.

"Draco's home," Veralidaine said in a sing-song voice.

As if on cue, Lyra heard Draco loudly stumping his feet past her door and to his room.

"Aren't you going to greet him?" asked Veralidaine,

"Later," said Lyra as she supervised the House Elves in organizing her belongings.

Veralidaine sighed and nodded, but her excitement did not weaver. She was annoyed by Draco's behavior at Hogwarts and couldn't wait and see when Lyra gives him a taste of his own medicine. If Lyra was waiting until later to see him that means she has something wicked it planned for him and Veralidaine was correct in her assumption.

"DRACO!" Lyra exclaimed, with a large smile and ran right at him with her arms stretched out.

Draco didn't recognize Lyra instantly, mistook her for Pansy, and ran the other way. Veralidaine laughed at the scene before her and covered her ears. Draco's scream was so sharp and high that she thought she was going to go deaf, but she didn't let that stop her from enjoying his feeble attempt to escape from Lyra. Once Lyra had Draco cornered like a frightened mouse, she pulled him into a tight hug and said, "I missed you, my husband to be!"

Draco stopped his struggles and turned his head. He looked down at the girl hugging him from behind. It took him five long minutes to realize it was Lyra and not Pansy. Lyra grinned at him and kissed his flushed cheek. "Draco! My Draco!" she shouted, batting her eyelashes.

Draco screamed louder, sharper than before and renewed his efforts to escape. Veralidaine pressed her hands harder over ears. She looked at the mirrors and windows in the hall and saw little cracks around the edges; her mouth agape. She was highly impressed by Draco's vocal cords. Veralidaine looked back at Draco, who had given up trying to throw Lyra off his back and was trying to crawl away, scratching at the carpeted floor. He stopped screaming when he spotted his father advancing towards them.

"What's happened, Lyra?" Lucius demanded, "I heard you screaming."

Veralidaine was in tears at this point, and fell onto the ground. He actually mistook his own son's screams for Lyra's. Lyra was more devious than she thought, avenging their schoolmates in this way. Lyra knew Draco hated it the most when she gets all mushy and flirtatious on him. As soon as she could, Veralidaine recovered and quickly apologized to Lucius. But a smile was still plastered on her face. Draco whimpered and once again tried to crawl out from under Lyra. He thought that since his father was there, Lyra would release him. But Lyra kept her iron grip around his waist.

"Nothing, I thought I saw a spider and Draco is comforting me." Lyra told her uncle.

Lucius arched an eyebrow at Lyra, who had lazily rested her head between Draco shoulder blades. She appeared bored, yet the smirk on her face said otherwise. He then looked at his son, who was lying flat in his stomach, and sending him a desperate, pleading look. Draco's eyes were pink and swollen and his face was flushed. Lucius inclined his head and remembered how rude Draco was when he demanded his broom back and he and Narcissa are arguing over it now. Lucius was planning to punish Draco for causing a dispute between him and Narcissa, but no doubt Narcissa would have stopped him, leading them to argue some more and ruin their Christmas. But, if Lyra were to punish Draco, then Narcissa would not mind it as much as him punishing Draco.

"Very well, continue." Lucius waved his hand dismissively and turned around, returning to the master bedroom to stop Narcissa before she came to investigate.

Lyra covered Draco's mouth before he could scream for help and roughly dragged him into his room. She shut the door with a kick of her foot and locked it after releasing Draco. Lyra crossed her arms over her chest and leaned against the door.

"You were acting very childish." Lyra told him. "And why were you trying to run from me?"

Draco sniffed and frowned at Lyra. "Coming at me like that-of course I'll run!" he whined.

Lyra uncrossed her arms and strides toward Draco, with her arms out, "I missed you…"

Draco shirked and backed away. Lyra stopped and put her arms down. "Why? You don't love me anymore?" Lyra demanded to know.

"Of course I don't! I never did!"

"Liar!"

"You dare call me a liar!"

"That's 'cause you are!"

"No I'm not!"

"Oh, really?" Lyra stuck her nose in the air, "Do you remember this?" She said, holding the diamond ring to his face.

Draco cocked his head and stared at the ring.

"I…" Draco pressed his lips together, trying to find an excuse. He remembered stealing that ring from his mother's jewelry box, and giving it to Lyra. Draco didn't know what came over him back then, but he certainly regretted his actions now. "I was five and mental! And I didn't know what I was doing!"

"Isn't it just like a man to spout words of love to you, and then take it back the next day?" Lyra mumbled under her breath, but purposely said it loud enough for Draco to hear. "Don't forget Draco, you were the one who asked for my hand and demand Uncle Lucius and Aunt Narcissa to hold the wedding."

Draco gritted his teeth, recalling the tiny ceremony his parents held for them in the garden. Most of their close relatives were there, baring presents. Draco was dressed in his best dress robe and Lyra was wearing a wedding dress. They sat together in their little table, where he told Lyra that he loved her and placed the ring on her finger. Everyone cheered and clapped and his father held his sobbing mother.

Draco gasped and slapped himself on the head. "That was a real wedding?" he exclaimed, falling onto the floor in despair.

"No, it wasn't," Lyra told him, "and stop with these theatrics."

Draco sighed in relief and went to sit on his bed. Lyra waited until Draco was fully relaxed before she said, "It was an engagement party."

Lyra climbed onto Draco's bed and saw that he was asleep, or fainted was the better word to describe his state. "Goodnight, love." She said, moving the strands of hair from his face and pulling the covers over him. When Draco awoke a few hours later, he found Lyra fast asleep beside him. Frowning, Draco pulled the covers off him but realized that he couldn't leave, for she was sleeping on his arm. Draco gently pushed Lyra off him and found a laced rope tied on his wrist, connecting to Lyra's wrist. Lyra was awoken by Draco's glass breaking scream. She cupped her ears and secretly prayed Draco's voice would cease to be so sharp soon.

"What's the matter?" she groaned, though she knew the reason already.

"THIS!" Draco shouted, pulling at the rope.

Lyra looked at the rope and shrugged. She had tied their wrist together while he was asleep and planned to keep it on for the rest to the holidays, just to make Draco suffer.

"Oh...this." Lyra lazily sat up, and rested her head on Draco's shoulder.

Draco shirked and pulled away from her. "Why did you tie us together?" he demanded.

"We haven't seen each other in months and I want to spend the rest of the holidays with you."

"But why did you tie us together?" he repeated, getting anger by the minute.

"I want to spend every second with you." she smiled.

"MUMMY! HELP! HELP!" Draco screamed. He jumped off the bed, dragging Lyra with him, and stumped his feet on the floor.

Narcissa rushed into Draco's room to see what the commotion was about and saw their tied hands.

"How adorable." she said, holding their tied hands up.

"I see," said Lucius, following his wife in, "How...creative."

"They are so perfect together." said Veralidaine, clapping her hands.

Draco sniffed, glaring at his father and Veralidaine, and sent sad, watery eyes to his mother. "But mum, what if I have to go to the bathroom?" he whined.

"It's not like I haven't seen you naked before..." Lyra said.

Draco glared at Lyra.

"All right, fine," said Lyra.

Draco huffed, thinking he was finally getting his way.

Lyra waited a few seconds before she said, "I'll turn around."

"MUM!" he screamed, "MAKE HER UNTIE ME!"

"Draco!" Lyra shouted above him, causing him to stop. "I'm hungry, aren't you?"

Draco was, but he wouldn't admit it to her.

"How about we have some sweets in the garden?" Lyra decided, pulling Draco with her without waiting for him to respond. "Veralidaine?"

"Coming,"

%

It was the Malfoy's annual winter ball and Lyra was making sure that everyone saw her and Draco together. Especially, all of the young and older witches who thought they could actually steal Draco from her. It wasn't as if she had romantic feelings for him, other than brotherly love, but Lyra had to keep her face up to show that she and Draco are the perfect couple. Narcissa and Lucius were always reminding her that Draco was her fiancé. He belonged her to and she to him. Their union was planned before their birth and nothing could change it. If that was how it was going to be, Lyra thought she might as well make the best of it.

"Keep still Draco." Lyra ordered him, while she straightened his dress robes and patted his hair down.

Draco frowned, but did as he was told. He learned years ago that if he disobeyed Lyra, especially when they are expected to attend a ball together, there'll be dire consequences from Lyra and his parents.

"Are you going to untie me now?" Draco asked for the millionth time. The decision to untie them was given to Lyra by his parents the night he ordered a House elf to give him a knife to cut the rope. When the rope didn't budge he attempted to cut Lyra's hand off, while she slept. But the traitorous House elf popped out and tattled to his parents about his scheme and he was severally punished. The House elves were ordered to not obey him and only Lyra for the rest of the holiday. Draco was crossed. Whenever he wanted something he had to ask Lyra nicely (or else she wouldn't do it) to tell the House elves get it for him.

"No."

"But – but everyone will see -" Draco held his wrist up, "this!"

"That's the idea. Come." Lyra said sharply.

Draco stuck his tied hand in his pocket and mumbled to himself about revenge and things he'd do to her, until they entered the ball room. Lyra pulled Draco's hand from his pocket and laced their fingers together. As they arrived there were echoes of oh and awes from the guests, mutter of how attractive and perfect they were. Lyra smiled as sweetly as she could and curtsied, while Draco followed suite with a proper deep bow. The guests' reaction to the rope was positive. They saw it as a lovely symbolic representation of their union and unyielding devotion for one another. The couple was applauded for their creativity.

"When is this going to be over?" Draco whined to Lyra as they shared yet another dance.

"Only two more songs to go and we're done for the night." Lyra replied.

"Two more?" Draco whined, drag his feet and pulling at his bow tie when he thought no one was watching. "Why's it getting more and more? Last ball we only have to dance twelve times. Now fifteen?"

"Tell it to your father." Lyra commented, which she knew would make him shut his mouth for the next hour in fear his father was behind him and could hear him complain.

As Lyra danced, she gazed at Veralidaine to see if she was all right. Veralidaine smiled in response, mouthing that she was fine, and turned her attention back the group of boys surrounding her.

"Want to join your little mate?" Draco drawled.

Lyra arched an eyebrow at him, "Jealous?"

"No!" Draco shouted, causing guests to turn their head to see what the commotion was about.

"You're absolutely right Draco. The Banchory Bangers should have been disbanded sooner." said Lyra, causing the guests to turn back and continue with whatever they were doing earlier.

Draco huffed and roughly took Lyra's hands and silently continued with their dance. After the awaited two sounds were played, the couple mentally breathed a sigh of relief and flexed their sore ankles.

"Draco!" Pansy shouted over the music and ran to them.

"Oh, look Draco. You girlfriend's here." Lyra off handedly commented.

Draco groaned at this for he was tired and wanted to sleep in his soft and comfy bed. Without a word, he took Lyra's hand and pulled her into the crowd.

"That was very rude of you," said Lyra as he pulled her away.

Draco looked at Lyra with a frown and then looked at Pansy. He looked back at Lyra, pulled her to his chest and pressed his lips on her. Lyra knew it was just for show and he probably did it to spite her and Pansy. She would let him have what little fun he needed to please his shattered ego. Draco looked at the mirror behind him and searched for Pansy's reflection. Meanwhile, Lyra untied the bow tie on Draco's collar that had gradually made him uncomfortable throughout the night and straightened his collar. Pansy gasped at the sight before her and loudly sobbed, running to the other side of the room. Draco released Lyra and smirked. He could kiss Lyra on cue as it was only for display, but he becomes upset when Lyra would kiss him when he's off guard. Or when she suddenly develops the urge to tease him.

Lyra took out her handkerchief and wiped the sweat from his brows, "I think you broke her heart."

Draco scoffed, leveling his cheeks and lips for her to wipe. "She'll recover."

He may not enjoy it when Lyra teases him, but Draco does enjoy it when she decides to tend to him. When they entered Draco's room, Lyra told the House elf to fluff their pillows, massage their aching feet, and help remove their garments.

"I'm going to be sore for days." groaned Draco, sitting on his bed and placing his feet in a bucket of ice.

"You're lucky you don't have to wear heels." Lyra winced as the House elf rubbed the salve over her skin.

Draco reclined on the plush pillows, looked down at Lyra's feet and cringed. "I bet you the designer purposely made those to maim women's feet."

"Probably," Lyra agreed, ordering another House elf to remove the tight pins on her hair.

Lyra looked down at the rope entwining her and Draco. She pulled the rope apart and released both of them. Draco swiftly pulled his arm from her and rubbed it. He smiled, glad she finally untied them after two and half torturous weeks.

"I decided to return to school before the start of term." she told him.

The smile on Draco's face faded, "Why?" he demanded to know, "Don't tell me you're a teacher's pet now?" he spat out.

Lyra ignored Draco's outburst and gazed at him, with a challenge, "Don't tell me you me miss already?"

"No!" Draco retorted.

"Then why are you upset?"

Draco opened his mouth and close. He was lost for words. He didn't want to tell her he would miss her. That he had truly missed those pasted months and was dying to see her again, until she attacked him and tied him to her. When she was gone he felt empty, like a part of him was missing. It was the same feeling he felt when Lyra had left for her first year at Durmstrang. He thought he was going to be happy, since he had his parents all to himself then. But his father was always busy in his study and although his mother spent all her time with him, she was awful at playing games and there were no limits with her. He truly missed Lyra and their game of matching wits, and that she would say no to him if needed.

"You of all people should be overjoyed, Draco."

"Fine! Go! Who needs you?" Draco shouted, stumping into the bathroom. Though his feet were causing him sever pain, he did not want her to see him cry.

%

1) The beginning is a clue I'm playing with involving the rumor that Bellatrix was Tom/Voldemort's lover.

2) Bathroom/troll scene: I read that J.K's editor didn't like the scene and thought it was too violent. He/she wanted to cut that part out and change it. But J.K refused and told her/him it was the only way Harry and Ron would share a bond with Hermione and kept it in.

I kept the whole part in as well. B/c I always thought it was kind of suspicious how Hermione just_ happened _to be there, and the troll just _happened _to go into the bathroom she's in. She planned it with Quirrell! I know it! It's the only way for Hermione to bond with Harry and Ron!

3) Walls talk, the paintings and ghost are spies! I bet you that's how Dumbledore knows about everything and Quirrell and made up the traps.

4) Ron copying Hermione's homework. That part wasn't shown, only partly mention. But that's how I imagined it in my head. (I read the books a lot and think too much.)

5) Snape detentions: he could have done what Umbridge did, since he hated Harry so much, but didn't. That was a clue of his true character.

6) Hermione knocking Quirrell over: I think that secretly, J.K once had this idea of Hermione being the anguish spy for Voldemort for a while. I notice certain clues and details after reading the books over. I think they were loads of people she thought of playing the role as the spy. But she decided on Snape for reasons I don't know. I have not read the final book yet, though I have seen the first half of the movie. Even so, I still don't know many details about Snape's past. I want to read one book at a time so I don't go overboard and my ideas jump all over the place. (I already mapped out HBP in my head.)

7) Hermione knows about Hagrid's past. As you have read, Lucius heard about it b/c he's Lucius and told Hermione. I changed it a bit b/c it's a rumor/truth. It's bound to change over time and people tend to exaggerate.

8) Nicolas Flamel: Hermione found out first b/c of Lucius's nosiness and hobby of keeping news clippings. I think that's why she gave Harry a large box of Chocolate Frogs. She knew it before them! Again back to my theory of J.K having the idea of Hermione being the spy.

9) Lucius abandoned Draco: My sisters do it all the time. They don't want to be the bad guy so they tell me to punish their kids in their place. The kids end up scared of me and love their parents for their protection from me, even though their parents are the ones telling me to do it.

10) Draco ropes: I know I'm not the only one with fantasies about this!


	7. The Sorcerer's Stone III

Hermione arrived at Hogwarts the day before term started. She was angry at Harry when he told her of his special present, an invisibility cloak. He used it to leave his bed in the dead of night, roaming the school three nights in a row. Quirrell could have easily gotten a hold of him. She already had enough faceless people's death on her conscious. She wasn't in need of more. Her anger was fueled even more when she found out that he hadn't discovered who Nicolas Flamel was, though he continued to claim that he read that name before somewhere. She asked him if he ate all the Chocolate Frogs she had given him. He answered her with a solid yes, though she spotted of hesitation in his voice. She was tempted to hex him for his ill memories, but held back. She could very well reveal her knowledge of Nicolas Flamel to him but did not. She wanted to help him but wanted him to discover it himself. She suspected that Quirrell didn't want Harry of all people to know of his plans. If Quirrell found out that it was her who told Harry, then she was as good as dead.

But Hermione was wrong. Quirrell wanted Harry to know of his plans, some of it. He wanted Harry to know that there was a magical item that the three-headed dog was guarding, but not what it was exactly. He had a secret plan, he told her, though he didn't provide her with the details. Much to her surprise. He only asked whether Harry was good at wizard chess or not. Hermione confirmed it with a no, but she mentioned that Ron knew how to play wizard chess. She often saw him play with Harry, using a battered old chessboard. Quirrell seemed interest by this information, and told Hermione to play a few games with Ron to test the level of his skills and report her finding back to him.

Seeing as Quidditch was the only thing Harry truly enjoyed, and by Quirrell's order, Hermione let him be. She didn't bother him as much as before, letting him give his full attention to practicing and catching the snitch. His days are numbered. She knew they were, even if Quirrell didn't out right say it.

Hermione kept her distant from Harry and focused her attention on Ron. Similar to Harry, Ron was a lot smarter than she previously thought. It revealed to her that she should not have underestimated a person at first glance. Ron had spectacular control over his chess pieces. He was confident, his concentration slightly wavered but all in all he displayed himself to be a magnificent strategist. Hermione was impressed. Now, if only he could direct these qualities onto his schoolwork.

After she reported to Quirrell about Ron's talent, he told her to continue playing chess with him to become familiar with his strategies and moves. He hinted that she and Ron will be playing against each other in a much larger scale soon.

Studying the chessboard, Hermione predicted that Ron was about to sacrifice his knight. It was a strategy he often used. The knight would be sacrificed leaving his bishop free to checkmate her king. Sadly for Ron, she had figured out a counter strategy four games ago that would leave her victorious. Ron was stumped. He had nowhere to go. She had him cornered.

"Don't talk to me for a moment," said Ron when Harry sat down next to him, "I need to concen -" He caught sight of Harry's face. "What's the matter with you? You look terrible."

Speaking quietly so that no one else would hear, Harry told the other two about Snape's sudden, sinister desire to be a Quidditch referee.

"Don't play," said Hermione at once. If Snape was throwing himself on the line it meant that something big was about to happen.

"Say you're ill," said Ron.

"Pretend to break your leg," Hermione suggested.

"Really break your leg," said Ron.

"I can't," said Harry. "There isn't a reserve Seeker. If I back out, Gryffindor can't play at all."

At that moment Neville toppled into the common room. How he had managed to climb through the portrait hole was anyone's guess, because his legs had been stuck together with what they recognized at once as the Leg-Locker Curse. He must have had to bunny hop all the way up to Gryffindor tower.

Everyone fell over laughing except Hermione, who leapt up and performed the countercurse. She was going to hex whoever did this. Neville's legs sprang apart and he got to his feet, trembling.

"What happened?" Hermione asked him, leading him over to sit with Harry and Ron.

"Malfoy," said Neville shakily.

Hermione made a note to herself to use this curse on Draco in their next break from school when she was Lyra again.

"I met him outside the library. He said he'd been looking for someone to practice that on."

"Go to Professor McGonagall!" Hermione urged Neville. "Report him!" Neville shook his head.

"I don't want more trouble," he mumbled.

"You've got to stand up to him, Neville!" said Ron. "He's used to walking all over people, but that's no reason to lie down in front of him and make it easier."

"There's no need to tell me I'm not brave enough to be in Gryffindor, Malfoy's already done that," Neville choked out.

Harry pulled out a Chocolate Frog from his pocket, and gave it to Neville, who looked as though he might cry.

"You're worth twelve of Malfoy," Harry said. "The Sorting Hat chose you for Gryffindor, didn't it? And where's Malfoy. In stinking Slytherin."

Neville's lips twitched in a weak smile as he unwrapped the frog.

"Thanks, Harry... I think I'll go to bed... D'you want the card, you collect them, don't you." As Neville walked away, Harry looked at the Famous Wizard card.

As Neville walked away, Harry looked at the Famous Wizard card.

"Dumbledore again," he said, "He was the first one I ever —"

He gasped. He stared at the back of the card. Then he looked up at Ron and Hermione.

"I've found him!" he whispered.

Hermione mentally huffed at Harry's outburst. It was about time.

"Stay there!" she said, and she sprinted up the stairs to the girls' dormitories.

Although he wasn't supposed to know what the magical item was, Hermione allowed him to know anyways. It might help motivate him.

* * *

As days went by and Harry's Quidditch match drew nearer, he became more and more nervous. Hermione was as well, especially when she was around Harry. Her heart would race and her palms would sweat. Hermione entered the Hospital wing believing she was ill. But the mediwitch reassured her that nothing was wrong. She was perfectly healthy.

As Hermione made her way back to the common room, she thought over what could have caused her illness. Her feeling of sickness had nothing to do with the upcoming match. She was certain of it, then why was she ill?

"You might be going through…you know." Lavender said, giving her a meaningful look, after she revealed her symptoms to her. "The change. My mom told me about it. When a girl gets older her hormones cause her body to change. Physically and emotionally. What you're feeling now are probably early signs."

"You're right. I must be." Hermione agreed. It was the only explanation.

Lavender nodded, feeling horrible for Hermione for not having a mother to explain these things to her. She wanted to give her words of comfort about her parents, but anything that remotely involved Hermione's parents saddened her. Maybe she should tell her that she was pretty? Even if she had hideous hair and buck teeth, it might make her feel better. But something told Lavender that Hermione had already figured it out that whenever she gave her a compliment it meant that she didn't know what else to say to her. At least something that wouldn't upset her.

Having overused the word pretty and beautiful, Lavender stared blankly at Hermione as she thought up words to compliment her. "You're so mature."

"Thank you."

Hermione glanced around before she left the dark alcove to meet with Ron. They had been secretly practicing the Leg-Locker Curse. She wasn't certain what Snape's intentions toward Harry were. For all she knew he and Quirrell had some sort of disagreement and Snape wanted to injure Harry to spite Quirrell and delay his plans. They'd gotten the idea from Draco using it on Neville, and were ready to use it on Snape if he showed any sign of wanting to hurt Harry.

She noticed that Snape has been following Harry around the school. He has got to be the worst stalker in the world. She spotted him every time he shadowed him. She wondered if Harry noticed.

"It's Locomotor Mortis," Hermione told Ron for the sixth time that day.

"I know," Ron snapped, flexing his cramped wrist. "Locomotor Mortis!"

They had been practicing for days but she didn't understand why he still couldn't do it.

"You're not doing it right."

"Yes, I am!" Ron shouted in frustration, frantically waving his wand.

"Then why aren't my legs locked together?" Hermione drawled.

Her patience growing thin, she marched across the room and grabbed Ron's hand. "Here, like this -"

Ron instantly snatched his hand away from her and stepped back, his ears red. "What are you doing?"

"Showing you how to flick your wrist. Why? What did you think I was going to do?" Hermione arched her brow, noticing the brush of red on his cheeks and how he avoided her gaze.

"I don't like you touching me." He murmured.

Hermione was taken aback by his confession. She never thought a Weasley would be disgusted by Muggle-borns. Although she wasn't a real Muggle-born, she did felt hurt. "Sorry my kind disgust you so much."

Ron whipped his head back and stared at her with wide eyes. "No! That's not what I meant! It came out wrong."

Hermione held her hand up to stop him from speaking and shook her head. "Let's pretend that didn't happened. We need to keep practicing. Harry needs us."

Ron still looked a bit uncomfortable, but he went back and continued practicing nonetheless.

* * *

The next afternoon, Hermione and Ron wished Harry good luck outside the locker rooms and were wondering whether they'd ever see him alive again. Harry gave them a tight smile and thanked them.

Ron and Hermione had found a place in the stands next to Neville, who gave them a curious look, but didn't ask any questions.

"Now, don't forget, it's Locomotor Mortis," Hermione muttered as Ron slipped his wand up his sleeve.

"I know," Ron snapped. "Don't nag."

Hermione didn't know why he was snapping at her for. She was reminding him so he could remember, and save his friend. She turned to look at Ron as he was turning his head to look at her. They held each other's gaze for what felt like hours before Hermione blinked and turned her attention to the match, breaking eye contact with him.

A flash of white caught and Hermione gasped at what it was. "Look! There's Dumbledore, he's come to watch the match."

There was no mistaking that silver beard. She and Ron sighed in relief.

"And Snape." Ron pointed, "I've never seen Snape look so mean," he told Hermione. "Look, they're off. Ouch!"

Hermione didn't hear a word Ron had said because her attention was solely on Harry. As she watched him circling the game like a hawk, looking for the Snitch, the loud cheering of the crowd slowly faded, until the only sound that could be heard was the beating of her heart. It was thumping in a vigorous rhythm in her chest.

Hermione closed her eyes, inhaling and exhaling deeply. The sound of the crowd returned within moments and she was award of her surroundings once again. Looking back at Harry, she saw that he had stopped flying and was staring at the ground.

"Ron!" said Hermione, "Harry!"

"What? Where?"

Harry had suddenly gone into a spectacular dive, which drew gasps and cheers from the crowd. Hermione stood up, her crossed fingers over her mouth, as Harry streaked toward the ground like a bullet.

"Come on, Harry!" Hermione screamed, leaping onto her seat to watch as Harry sped straight at Snape, she didn't even notice Malfoy and Ron rolling around under her seat, or the scuffles and yelps coming from the whirl of fists that was Neville, Crabbe, and Goyle.

Up in the air, Snape turned on his broomstick just in time to see something scarlet shoot past him, missing him by inches, the next second, Harry had pulled out of the dive, his arm raised in triumph, the Snitch clasped in his hand.

The stands erupted; it had to be a record. Hermione had never known of the Snitch being caught so quickly.

"Ron! Ron! Where are you? The game's over! Harry's won! We've won! Gryffindor is in the lead!" shrieked Hermione, dancing up and down on her seat and hugging Parvati Patil in the row in front.

She couldn't believe it. Harry was amazing. The game had barely lasted five minutes.

As Gryffindors came spilling onto the field, Hermione jumped up and down cheering for Harry. Feeling something poke her leg, she looked down and found Lavender signaling her that she wanted to talk to her. Hermione nodded, silently agreeing to meet with her later. She turned to Ron gasped at the blood coming out of his nose.

"What happened?" Hermione demanded. She didn't favor him, but didn't want to see him hurt either.

"Malfoy," he grumbled, wiping the blood with the back of his hand.

She took out a handkerchief and held it out for him to take. She made sure their hands didn't touch, since he was offended by skin to skin contact with her.

"Thanks." He said and handed it back.

Hermione stared at the blood soaked clothe, "You can keep it."

"I gave Malfoy a black eye, and Neville tried to take on Crabbe and Goyle single-handed."

"Neville? Where is he?"

"He was right next to me -"

Hermione gasped when she found Neville unconscious on the ground next to Ron's feet. "We have to take him to Madam Pomfrey!"

Ron took his arm, shaking him up. "Come one, Neville!"

Hermione grasped his other arm and helped. "How could you Ron? Pulling Neville into your childish fights." She scolded him as they dragged Neville between them, down the stands.

"I didn't. Malfoy started it."

"Malfoy," Hermione hissed, praying for patients. "Be that as it may, you should have stopped Neville from getting involved."

"Not like I dragged him into it -"

"Look at him! He's been trampled on by the crowd!"

They argued the whole way to the hospital wing, until they parted ways.

While everyone was busy recounting the game in the common room, and Ron gone to clean himself up, Hermione meet with Lavender in their room.

"What is it?" Hermione asked.

Lavender cocked her head, staring at Hermione in an odd manner. Straightening herself, Lavender blinked as if seeing Hermione for the first time. "Are you all right?"

"Of course I am." Hermione replied, wondering why she was asking her such a question.

"Hm…" Lavender hummed. "Hermione…do you…"

"Do I what?" Hermione demanded impatiently, she wanted her to hurry so she could go see Harry. "Out with it."

Lavender pressed her lip together as if what she was afraid to ask Hermione, her question. "Do you fancy Harry?"

Hermione stiffened and placed her hand over her chest. It felt like something blunt was thrown at her. "W-what do you just say?"

"I saw the way you were…watching him." Lavender stuttered. "I've never seen that look on you face before. You were, you were… dreamy." She whispered the last word.

"Dreamy?" Hermione echoed in a tight voice. Her face was hot with emotions, the most displaying was anger.

Lavender took a step back. "I could've imagined it. The air was quite –um – my – my glasses. You know how I haven't worn them in a long time. My vision was probably askew."

"You should make an appointment with a healer to examine your vision as soon as possible." Hermione said, slowly relaxing and dismissing Lavender's earlier accusation. It was too absurd to think of any further.

"Yes, I will. Right away."

Hermione nodded, leaving the room in search of Ron and Harry.

Lavender watched her friend passed the threshold of their door, feeling sorry for her. Hermione was in love with Harry Potter and didn't even realize it.

* * *

"Harry, where have you been?" Hermione squeaked. She couldn't help herself from smiling at the sight of him.

"We won! You won! We won!" shouted Ron, thumping Harry on the back. "And I gave Malfoy a black eye, and Neville tried to take on Crabbe and Goyle single-handed! He's still out cold but Madam Pomfrey says he'll be all right, talk about showing Slytherin! I've waiting for you in the common room, we're having a party, Fred and George stole some cakes and stuff from the kitchens."

Hermione ignored Ron, shaking her head in disapproval. All of her focus was on Harry.

"Never mind that now," said Harry breathlessly. "Let's find an empty room, you wait 'til you hear this."

He made sure Peeves wasn't inside before shutting the door behind them, then he told them what he'd seen and heard.

"So we were right, it is the Sorcerer's Stone, and Snape's trying to force Quirrell to help him get it. He asked if he knew how to get past Fluffy, and he said something about Quirrell's 'hocus pocus'. I reckon there are other things guarding the stone apart from Fluffy, loads of enchantments, probably, and Quirrell would have done some anti-Dark Arts spell that Snape needs to break through."

"So you mean the Stone's only safe as long as Quirrell stands up to Snape?" said Hermione in alarm. She was no longer able to understand the relationship between the two professors. Are they working together or were they enemies? Or are they both attempting to get the stone for their own gain? It seemed the more she learned the more confusing it became.

"It'll be gone by next Tuesday," said Ron.

* * *

"How much does Potter know of the third-floor corridor?" Quirrell asked Hermione one day.

"He knows there's a large three-headed dog living in there." Hermione replied. Every time they passed the third-floor corridor, Harry, Ron, and Hermione would press their ears to the door to check that Fluffy was still growling inside.

Quirrell was suspicious of Harry's behavior towards him in the weeks that have passed. Whenever Harry passed Quirrell these days he gave him an encouraging sort of smile. Hermione believed Quirrell was interpreting it as Harry taunting him.

"Very well," he said. "I have no more use for you at this moment."

He allowed her to leave, but seemed to have remembered something and called her back to him, "Hopefully, my extra assignments haven't affected your marks. You should focus more on your classes now that you have more time. Exams are going up in what? Ten weeks."

"Yes, sir."

"I suggest you paid close attention to what your teachers are lecturing you about." He said before dismissing her.

* * *

Taking Quirrell's suggestion to heart, Hermione began throwing herself into her studies and spending most of her free time in the library with Harry and Ron. She had started drawing up study schedules and color coding all her notes and advised Harry and Ron to do the same. She didn't believe Quirrell was all that concerned about her marks. There was hidden meaning in his words, something he wanted her to know or do and her life probably depended on it. It obviously had something to do with the Sorcerer's Stone. Maybe it there was something more than Fluffy guarding it?

Whatever it may be Hermione was going to be prepared for it.

While in the Library, Harry and Ron moaned and complained and yawning. Hermione continued to read her book and took down notes. Her attention was fully on the book until she heard Ron say, "Hagrid! What are you doing in the library?"

Hermione glanced in the direction Ron was looking and Hagrid shuffled into view, hiding something behind his back. He looked very out of place in his moleskin overcoat. She returned to her book, but kept her ear in their conversation.

"Jus' lookin'," he said, in a shifty voice that got their interest at once. "An' what're you lot up ter?" He looked suddenly suspicious. "Yer not still lookin' fer Nicolas Flamel, are yeh?"

"Oh, we found out who he is ages ago," said Ron impressively. "And we know what that dog's guarding, it's a Sorcerer's Stone."

"Shhhh!" Hagrid looked around quickly to see if anyone was listening. "Don' go shoutin' about it, what's the matter with yeh?"

"There are a few things we wanted to ask you, as a matter of fact," said Harry, "about what's guarding the Stone apart from Fluffy."

"SHHHH!" said Hagrid again. "Listen, come an' see me later, I'm not promisin' I'll tell yeh anythin', mind, but don' go rabbitin' about it in here, students aren' s'pposed ter know. They'll think I've told yeh."

"See you later, then," said Harry.

Hagrid shuffled off.

"What was he hiding behind his back?" said Hermione thoughtfully. Normally she would not have cared what Hagrid did, but her suspicious nature was telling her to not dismiss him.

"Do you think it had anything to do with the Stone?"

"I'm going to see what section he was in," said Ron, who'd had enough of working. He came back a minute later with a pile of books in his arms and slammed them down on the table.

"Dragons!" he whispered. "Hagrid was looking up stuff about dragons! Look at these: Dragon Species of Great Britain and Ireland; From Egg to Inferno, A Dragon Keeper's Guide."

"Hagrid's always wanted a dragon, he told me so the first time I ever met him," said Harry.

Hermione tilted her head, thinking over Harry's words. If Hagrid always wanted a dragon then it wouldn't be strange for him to sought books about them, but the lines of titles are arousing her interest.

"But it's against our laws," said Ron. "Dragon breeding was outlawed by the Warlocks' Convention of 1709, everyone knows that. It's hard to stop Muggles from noticing us if we're keeping dragons in the back garden, anyway, you can't tame dragons, it's dangerous. You should see the burns Charlie's got off wild ones in Romania."

"But there aren't wild dragons in Britain?" said Harry.

"Of course there are," said Ron. "Common Welsh Green and Hebridean Blacks. The Ministry of Magic has a job hushing them up, I can tell you. Our kind have to keep putting spells on Muggles who've spotted them, to make them forget."

"So what on earth's Hagrid up to?" said Hermione.

When they knocked on the door of the gamekeeper's hut an hour later, they were surprised to see that all the curtains were closed. Hagrid called "Who is it?" before he let them in, and then shut the door quickly behind them. It was stifling hot inside. Even though it was such a warm day, there was a blazing fire in the grate. Hagrid made them tea and offered them stoat sandwiches, which they refused. After Hagrid asked them what they wanted, Harry didn't beat round the bush. He asked Hagrid out right. What else was guarding the Sorcerer's Stone apart from Fluffy? He was being tightlipped about it, refusing to tell them. But Hermione figured a few good compliments could pursue him. He revealed that Dumbledore borrowed Fluffy from him then some of the teachers' casted enchantments. There was: Professor Sprout, Professor Flitwick, Professor McGonagall, Professor Quirrell, Professor Snape, and Dumbledore himself.

As Hagrid listed the names, Hermione realized that this was the reason why Quirrell wanted her to focus on her studies. He might wanted her to help him break the other teacher's enchantments. And then another thought occurred to her. If Snape and Quirrell had been in on protecting the Stone, it must have been easy to find out how the other teachers had guarded it. They probably knew everything, except, it seemed, how to get past Fluffy and there might be a dragon guarding it as well. If Hagrid's choice of reading material was any indication. Although dragons were outlawed, Dumbledore could have got a dragon if he wanted one. Enchantments are easily broken if one knew what the spells are, but a three-headed dog and a dragon would be hard to get pass. That was probably why neither Snape nor Quirrell have got to the stone yet.

Hagrid and Dumbledore are the only two who knew how to get passed Fluffy and the dragon. Dumbledore wouldn't tell, which left Hagrid. If Hermione was able to easily pursue him to reveal the names of the teachers guarding the stone, then Quirrell and Snape could have got him to tell them want they wanted to know too. This frightened Hermione. Hagrid swore he would never tell a single soul, but Hermione had her doubts.

Hermione fanned herself with her hand. The temperature in the hovel had increased since they arrived and she was boiling. When Harry asked if they could open a window, Hagrid refused and glanced at the fire. Hermione, Harry and Ron looked at it as well. In the very heart of the fire, underneath the kettle, was a huge, black egg.

A dragon's egg…

Did the dragon in the third floor laid it? Was Hagrid egg sitting? Dread filled Hermione when Harry's voiced suddenly echoed in her ears.

_Hagrid's always wanted a dragon, he told me so the first time I ever met him... Hagrid's always wanted a dragon, he told me so the first time I ever met him… Hagrid's always wanted a dragon, he told me so the first time I ever met him..._

Everything became clear to Hermione when Hagrid admitted to winning the egg in a card game with a hooded stranger. Hmm…Snape or Quirrell?

Well they get to the stone before the egg in the kettle hatched? She wondered. And what was Hagrid going to do with the dragon, a Norwegian Ridgeback? Where was he going to keep it? In his hut? It's made of wood! The creature would burn his house down to the ground.

Hagrid of course didn't listen to her when she warned him. He was too in love with his egg to pay them any mind. If that was how he was going to be then why should she care? Not like she was worried about him.

* * *

One breakfast time, Hedwig brought Harry another note from Hagrid. He had written only two words: _It's hatching._

Ron wanted to skip Herbology and go straight down to the hut. Hermione wouldn't hear of it. She had worked hard supervising their schoolwork, making study schedules for Harry and Ron. It was driving them nuts, but it was better than dying. When the time came for Quirrell to call her back, Hermione wanted to be ready and they are not going to be pulling her into a grave with them.

"Hermione, how many times in our lives are we going to see a dragon hatching?"

"We've got lessons, we'll get into trouble, and that's nothing to what Hagrid's going to be in when someone finds out what he's doing."

"Shut up!" Harry whispered.

Draco was only a few feet away and he had stopped dead to listen. How much had he heard? Hermione didn't like the look on Draco's face at all. She was contemplating doing something about him but was too distracted by Ron's annoying voice to think of a way to see if Draco heard them.

Ron and Hermione argued all the way to Herbology and in the end, Hermione agreed to run down to Hagrid's with the other two during morning break. When the bell sounded from the castle at the end of their lesson, the three of them dropped their trowels at once and hurried through the grounds to the edge of the forest. Hagrid greeted them, looking flushed and excited.

"It's nearly out." He ushered them inside.

The egg was lying on the table. There were deep cracks in it. Something was moving inside; a funny clicking noise was coming from all drew their chairs up to the table and watched with bated breath. All at once there was a scraping noise and the egg split open. The baby dragon flopped onto the table. It wasn't exactly pretty; Hermione thought it looked like a large crumpled, black bat. Its spiny wings were huge compared to its skinny jet body, it had a long snout with wide nostrils, the stubs of horns and bulging, orange eyes. It sneezed. A couple of sparks flew out of its snout.

"Isn't he beautiful?" Hagrid murmured. He reached out a hand to stroke the dragon's head. It snapped at his fingers, showing pointed fangs. "Bless him, look, he knows his mommy!"

"Hagrid," said Hermione, "how fast do Norwegian Ridgebacks grow, exactly?" She knew the information and wanted to see if he did.

Hagrid was about to answer when the color suddenly drained from his face, he leapt to his feet and ran to the window.

"What's the matter?"

"Someone was lookin' through the gap in the curtains, it's a kid, he's runnin' back up ter the school."

Hermione didn't have to look to know who it was.

* * *

Hermione was nervous during the next week and it had nothing to do about the smile lurking on Draco's face. She could handle him when the time comes. What she needed to focus on was surviving to the next school year. Believing the dragon had something to do with the Quirrell, she studied the dragon Hagrid was raising whenever she, Harry, and Ron went to his hut.

"Just let him go," Harry urged. "Set him free."

"I can't," said Hagrid. "He's too little. He'd die."

The dragon had grown three times in length in just a week. Smoke kept furling out of its nostrils. Hagrid hadn't been doing his gamekeeping duties because the dragon was keeping him busy. There were empty brandy bottles and chicken feathers all over the floor. Hermione was disgusted by Hagrid's behavior, the state of his hut, and his dragon, Norbert, but didn't voice her opinion.

Harry came up with a solution to get rid of Norbert by having Ron's older brother, Charlie, come pick him up. Charlie was in Romania studying dragons. Hagrid was reluctant, but in the end he agreed that they could send an owl to Charlie to ask him.

The following week dragged by. Wednesday night found Hermione and Harry sitting alone in the common room, long after everyone else had gone to bed. The clock on the wall had just chimed midnight when the portrait hole burst open. Ron appeared out of nowhere as he pulled off Harry's invisibility cloak. He had been down at Hagrid's hut, helping him feed Norbert, who was now eating dead rats by the crate.

"It bit me!" he said, showing them his hand, which was wrapped in a bloody handkerchief. "I'm not going to be able to hold a quill for a week. I tell you, that dragon's the most horrible animal I've ever met, but the way Hagrid goes on about it, you'd think it was a fluffy little bunny rabbit. When it bit me he told me off for frightening it. And when I left, he was singing it a lullaby."

Hermione felt an urge to comfort Ron but recalled how he reacted to her touch earlier and decided to remain aloof about his injury.

There was a tap on the dark window. Charlie had sent an answer to their letter about Norbert. He said some friends of his would come and they needed to get Norbert up the tallest tower at midnight on Saturday. His friends would meet them there. The plan was for them and Norbert to hid under Harry's invisible cloak and send Norbert off.

By the next morning, Ron's bitten hand had swollen to twice its usual size. Hermione thought he should go see Madam Pomfrey, but they didn't know whether it was safe and if would she recognize a dragon bite. By the afternoon, though, he had no choice. The cut had turned a nasty shade of green. It looked as if Norbert's fangs were poisonous.

Harry and Hermione rushed up to the hospital wing at the end of the day to find Ron in a terrible state in bed. Once again, Hermione felt an incredible urge to comfort him, but reminded herself not to. And why would she care? Not like she particularly liked him. But seeing Ron all pathetic and suffering made her shuddered with worry and hearing how Draco was taunting him made her want to hex him in Ron's defense.

"It'll all be over at midnight on Saturday," said Hermione, but this didn't soothe Ron at all. On the contrary, he sat bolt upright and broke into a sweat.

"Midnight on Saturday!" he said in a hoarse voice. "Oh no, oh no, I've just remembered, Charlie's letter was in that book Malfoy took, he's going to know we're getting rid of Norbert."

Harry and Hermione didn't get a chance to answer. Madam Pomfrey came over at that moment and made them leave, saying Ron needed sleep.

"It's too late to change the plan now," Harry told Hermione. "We haven't got time to send Charlie another owl, and this could be our only chance to get rid of Norbert. We'll have to risk it. And we have got the invisibility cloak, Malfoy doesn't know about that."

They found Fang, the boarhound, sitting outside with a bandaged tail when they went to tell Hagrid, who opened a window to talk to them.

"I won't let you in," he puffed. "Norbert's at a tricky stage, nothin' I can't handle."

When they told him about Charlie's letter, his eyes filled with tears, although that might have been because Norbert had just bitten him on the leg. Hermione thought they had to hurry and get rid of Norbert before he devoured Hagrid in his sleep. Baby or not it's still a wild creature.

"Aargh! It's all right, he only got my boot, jus' playin', he's only a baby, after all."

The baby banged its tail on the wall, making the windows rattle. Harry and Hermione walked back to the castle feeling. Saturday couldn't come quickly enough. Saturday was a very dark, cloudy night, Hagrid had Norbert packed and ready in a large crate.

"He's got lots o' rats an' some brandy fer the journey," said Hagrid in a muffled voice. "An' I've packed his teddy bear in case he gets lonely."

From inside the crate came ripping noises that sounded as though the teddy was having his head torn off.

"Bye-bye, Norbert!" Hagrid sobbed, as Harry and Hermione covered the crate with the invisibility cloak and stepped underneath it themselves. "Mommy will never forget you!"

Seeing Hagrid all emotional about a wild creature that would likely tear his body apart and eat him, made Hermione heart filled with grief for thinking such ill thoughts about the two of them. Hagrid loved Norbert. He really loves him. Hermione wasn't allowed to say goodbye to her parents. She wondered if they would behaved as Hagrid was if they did.

How they managed to get the crate back up to the castle, they never knew. Midnight ticked nearer as they heaved Norbert up the marble staircase in the entrance hall and along the dark corridors. Up another staircase, then another, even one of Harry's shortcuts didn't make the work much easier.

"Nearly there!" Harry panted as they reached the corridor beneath the tallest tower.

Then a sudden movement ahead of them made them almost drop the crate. Forgetting that they were already invisible, they shrank into the shadows, staring at the dark outlines of two people grappling with each other ten feet away. A lamp flared.

Professor McGonagall, in a tartan bathrobe and a hair net, had Draco by the ear.

"Detention!" she shouted. "And twenty points from Slytherin! Wandering around in the middle of the night, how dare you!"

"You don't understand, Professor. Harry Potter's coming - he's got a dragon!"

"What utter rubbish! How dare you tell such lies! Come on, I shall see Professor Snape about you, Malfoy!"

The steep spiral staircase up to the top of the tower seemed the easiest thing in the world after that. Not until they'd stepped out into the cold night air did they throw off the cloak, glad to be able to breathe properly again. Hermione did a sort of jig. She was worried about Draco and the trouble he kept getting himself in.

"Malfoy's got detention! I could sing!" she said, when she caught Harry's stare. It wouldn't do her any favors if he found out how much she cared for Draco.

"Don't," Harry advised her.

Chuckling about Draco, they waited, Norbert thrashing about in his crate. About ten minutes later, four broomsticks came swooping down out of the darkness.

Charlie's friends were a cheery lot. They showed Harry and Hermione the harness they'd rigged up, so they could suspend Norbert between them. They all helped buckle Norbert safely into it and then Harry and Hermione shook hands with the others and thanked them very much.

At last, Norbert was going, going, gone.

They slipped back down the spiral staircase, their hearts as light as their hands, now that Norbert was off them.

As they stepped into the corridor, Filch's face loomed suddenly out of the darkness.

"Well, well, well," he whispered, "we are in trouble."

They'd left the invisibility cloak on top of the tower. Things couldn't have been worse.

Filch took them down to Professor McGonagall's study on the first floor, where they sat and waited without saying a word to each other. Hermione was trembling. Excuses, alibis, and wild cover-up stories chased each other around Hermione's brain, but none would let her catch them. With her mind in disarray she couldn't see how she could get herself and Harry out of trouble. They were cornered. How could they have been so stupid as to forget the cloak? There was no reason on earth that Professor McGonagall would accept for their being out of bed and creeping around the school in the dead of night, let alone being up the astronomy tower, which was out-of-bounds except for classes. Add Norbert and the invisibility cloak, and they might as well be packing their bags already. Hermione would've seen this as a blessing in disguise, but feared what Quirrell and his master would do to her. Or to Harry.

Professor McGonagall appeared, she was leading Neville.

"Harry!" Neville burst out, the moment he saw the other two. "I was trying to find you to warn you, I heard Malfoy saying he was going to catch you, he said you had a dragon."

Harry shook his head violently to shut Neville up, but Professor McGonagall had seen. She looked more likely to breathe fire than Norbert as she towered over the three of them.

"I would never have believed it of any of you. Mr. Filch says you were up in the astronomy tower. It's one o'clock in the morning. Explain yourselves."

It was the first time Hermione had ever failed to answer a teacher's question. She was staring at her slippers, as still as a statue.

"I think I've got a good idea of what's been going on," said Professor McGonagall. "It doesn't take a genius to work it out. You fed Draco Malfoy some cock-and-bull story about a dragon, trying to get him out of bed and into trouble. I've already caught him. I suppose you think it's funny that Longbottom here heard the story and believed it, too?"

At the corner of her eye, Hermione could see Harry sending Neville odd expressions. She didn't pay them attention or cared. They had detention. All of them and fifty points taken. Hermione didn't care much for the House points. Not like she was going to be here long term.

She had stopped drawing attention to herself in class, keeping her head down and working in silence. She was working late into the night, trying to remember the ingredients in complicated potions, learn charms and spells by heart, memorize the dates of magical discoveries and goblin rebellions. She was glad to see Ron was doing the same and asking her to tutor him.

"Jupiter," said Hermione.

Ron knitted his brows together in concentration. "Jupiter. Fifth planet from the sun. Its the largest. A gas planet. Name...named after the Roman god Jupiter. Has at least 66 moons."

Hermione nodded as Ron recited the information.

Harry arrived and told them that he heard Snape bullying Quirrell.

"Snape's done it, then!" said Ron. "If Quirrell's told him how to break his Anti-Dark Force spell."

"There's still Fluffy, though," said Hermione.

"Maybe Snape's found out how to get past him without asking Hagrid," said Ron, looking up at the thousands of books surrounding them. "I bet there's a book somewhere in here telling you how to get past a giant three-headed dog."

Hermione felt her heart leap when Ron said that. She was amazed at the improvement she had made on him. He really was applying himself. She was so proud. It rendered her speechless.

"So what do we do, Harry?"

The light of adventure was kindling again in Ron's eyes, but Hermione answered before Harry could.

"Go to Dumbledore. That's what we should have done ages ago. If we try anything ourselves we'll be thrown out for sure."_ or killed._

"But we've got no proof!" said Harry. "Quirrell's too scared to back us up. Snape's only got to say he doesn't know how the troll got in at Halloween and that he was nowhere near the third floor, who do you think they'll believe, him or us? It's not exactly a secret we hate him, Dumbledore'll think we made it up to get him sacked. Filch wouldn't help us if his life depended on it, he's too friendly with Snape, and the more students get thrown out, the better, he'll think. And don't forget, we're not supposed to know about the Stone or Fluffy. That'll take a lot of explaining."

Hermione looked convinced, although she truly wasn't.

"If we just do a bit of poking around."

"No," said Harry flatly, "we've done enough poking around."

He pulled a map of Jupiter toward him and started to learn the names of its moons.

The following morning, notes were delivered to Harry, Hermione, and Neville at the breakfast table. They were all the same:

_Your detention will take place at eleven o'clock tonight. _

_Meet Mr. Filch in the entrance hall._

Professor McGonagall

Hermione didn't complain, she felt they deserved what they'd got.

At eleven o'clock that night, Hermione and Harry said good-bye to Ron in the common room and went down to the entrance hall with Neville. Filch was already there and so was Draco, looking sulky as ever.

"Follow me," said Filch, lighting a lamp and leading them outside.

"I bet you'll think twice about breaking a school rule again, won't you, eh?" he said, leering at them. "Oh yes, hard work and pain are the best teachers if you ask me. It's just a pity they let the old punishments die out, hang you by your wrists from the ceiling for a few days, I've got the chains still in my office, keep 'em well oiled in case they're ever needed. Right, off we go, and don't think of running off, now, it'll be worse for you if you do."

Hermione saw Draco flinch at Filch's words. She resisted the urge to hold him, reassure him it was all right, and tell him Filch was only making up stories.

They marched off across the dark grounds.

"Is that you, Filch? Hurry up, I want ter get started." Hermione heard Hagrid said.

"I suppose you think you'll be enjoying yourself with that oaf? Well, think again, boy, it's into the forest you're going and I'm much mistaken if you'll all come out in one piece." Filch said.

At this, Neville let out a little moan, and Draco stopped dead in his tracks.

"The forest?" Draco repeated. "We can't go in there at night, there's all sorts of things in there, werewolves, I heard."

Hermione bit her lips to prevent the smile on her face from spreading. It was she who had told Draco that story to scare him right before he boarded the train.

Neville clutched the sleeve of Harry's robe and made a choking noise.

"That's your problem, isn't it?" said Filch, his voice cracking with glee. "Should've thought of them werewolves before you got in trouble, shouldn't you?"

Hagrid came striding toward them out of the dark, Fang at his heel. He was carrying his large crossbow, and a quiver of arrows hung over his shoulder.

"Abou' time," he said. "I bin waitin' fer half an hour already. All right, Harry, Hermione?"

"I shouldn't be too friendly to them, Hagrid," said Filch coldly, "they're here to be punished, after all."

"That's why yer late, is it?" said Hagrid, frowning at Filch. "Bin lecturin' them, eh? 'Snot your place ter do that. Yeh've done yer bit, I'll take over from here."

"I'll be back at dawn," said Filch, "for what's left of them," he added nastily, and he turned and started back toward the castle, his lamp bobbing away in the darkness.

Draco now turned to Hagrid.

"I'm not going in that forest," he said, a note of panic in his voice.

"Yeh are if yeh want ter stay at Hogwarts," said Hagrid fiercely. "Yeh've done wrong an' now yeh've got ter pay fer it."

"But this is servant stuff, it's not for students to do. I thought we'd be copying lines or something, if my father knew I was doing this, he'd -"

"- tell yer that's how it is at Hogwarts," Hagrid growled. "Copyin' lines! What good's that ter anyone? Yeh'll do summat useful or yeh'll get out. If yeh think yer father'd rather you were expelled, then get back off ter the castle an' pack. Go on."

Draco didn't move. He looked at Hagrid furiously, but then dropped his gaze.

"Right then," said Hagrid, "now, listen carefully, 'cause it's dangerous what we're gonna do tonight, an' I don' want no one takin' risks. Follow me over here a moment."

He led them to the very edge of the forest. Holding his lamp up high, he pointed down a narrow, winding earth track that disappeared into the thick black trees. A light breeze lifted their hair as they looked into the forest.

"Look there," said Hagrid, "see that stuff shinin' on the ground? Silvery stuff? That's unicorn blood. There's a unicorn in there bin hurt badly by summat. This is the second time in a week. I found one dead last Wednesday. We're gonna try an' find the poor thing. We might have ter put it out of its misery."

"And what if whatever hurt the unicorn finds us first?" said Draco, unable to keep the fear out of his voice.

Hermione tilted her head, studying the unicorn blood. Something was not right.

"There's nothin' that lives in the forest that'll hurt yeh if yer with me or Fang," said Hagrid. "An' keep ter the path. Right, now, we're gonna split inter two parties an' follow the trail in diff'rent directions. There's blood all over the place, it must've bin staggerin' around since last night at least."

"I want Fang," said Draco quickly, looking at Fang's long teeth.

"All right, but I warn yeh, he's a coward," said Hagrid. "So me, Harry, an' Hermione'll go one way an' Draco, Neville, an' Fang'll go the other. Now, if any of us finds the unicorn, we'll send up green sparks, right? Get yer wands out an' practice now, that's it, an' if anyone gets in trouble, send up red sparks, an' we'll all come an' find yeh, so, be careful, let's go."

The forest was black and silent. A little way into it they reached a fork in the earth path, and Harry, Hermione, and Hagrid took the left path while Draco, Neville, and Fang took the right. They walked in silence, their eyes on the ground. Every now and then a ray of moonlight through the branches above lit a spot of silver-blue blood on the fallen leaves. Hermione was worried for Draco and Neville. She hope they don't run into anything dangerous.

"Could a werewolf be killing the unicorns?" Harry asked.

"Not fast enough," said Hagrid. "It's not easy ter catch a unicorn, they're powerful magic creatures. I never knew one ter be hurt before."

They walked past a mossy tree stump. Harry could hear running water; there must be a stream somewhere close by. There were still spots of unicorn blood here and there along the winding path.

"You all right, Hermione?" Hagrid whispered. "Don' worry, it can't've gone far if it's this badly hurt, an' then we'll be able ter - GET BEHIND THAT TREE!"

Hagrid seized Harry and Hermione and hoisted them off the path behind a towering oak. He pulled out an arrow and fitted it into his crossbow, raising it, ready to fire. The three of them listened. Something was slithering over dead leaves nearby: it sounded like a cloak trailing along the ground. Hagrid was squinting up the dark path, but after a few seconds, the sound faded away.

"I knew it," he murmured. "There's summat in here that shouldn' be."

"A werewolf?" Harry suggested.

_Or You-Know-Who. _Thought Hermione.

"That wasn' no werewolf an' it wasn' no unicorn, neither," said Hagrid grimly. "Right, follow me, but careful, now."

They walked more slowly, ears straining for the faintest sound. Suddenly, in a clearing ahead, something definitely moved.

"Who's there?" Hagrid called. "Show yerself - I'm armed!"

And into the clearing came, was it a man, or a horse? To the waist, a man, with red hair and beard, but below that was a horse's gleaming chestnut body with a long, reddish tail. Harry and Hermione's jaws dropped.

"Oh, it's you, Ronan," said Hagrid in relief. "How are yeh?"

He walked forward and shook the centaur's hand.

"Good evening to you, Hagrid," said Ronan. He had a deep, sorrowful voice. "Were you going to shoot me?"

"Can't be too careful, Ronan," said Hagrid, patting his crossbow. "There's summat bad loose in this forest. This is Harry Potter an' Hermione Granger, by the way. Students up at the school. An' this is Ronan, you two. He's a centaur.

"We'd noticed," said Hermione faintly.

"Good evening," said Ronan. "Students, are you? And do you learn much, up at the school?"

"Erm..."

"A bit," said Hermione timidly.

"A bit. Well, that's something." Ronan sighed. He flung back his head and stared at the sky. "Mars is bright tonight."

"Yeah," said Hagrid, glancing up, too. "Listen, I'm glad we've run inter yeh, Ronan, 'cause there's a unicorn bin hurt, you seen anythin'?"

Ronan didn't answer immediately. He stared unblinkingly upward, then sighed again.

"Always the innocent are the first victims," he said. "So it has been for ages past, so it is now."

"Yeah," said Hagrid, "but have yeh seen anythin' Ronan? Anythin' unusual?"

"Mars is bright tonight," Ronan repeated, while Hagrid watched him impatiently. "Unusually bright."

"Yeah, but I was meanin' anythin' unusual a bit nearer home," said Hagrid. "So yeh haven't noticed anythin' strange?"

Yet again, Ronan took a while to answer. At last, he said, "The forest hides many secrets."

A movement in the trees behind Ronan made Hagrid raise his bow again, but it was only a second centaur, black-haired and -bodied and wilder-looking than Ronan.

"Hullo, Bane," said Hagrid. "All right?"

"Good evening, Hagrid, I hope you are well?"

"Well enough. Look, I've jus' bin askin' Ronan, you seen anythin' odd in here lately? There's a unicorn bin injured, would yeh know anythin' about it?"

Bane walked over to stand next to Ronan. He looked skyward. "Mars is bright tonight," he said simply.

"We've heard," said Hagrid grumpily. "Well, if either of you do see anythin', let me know, won't yeh? We'll be off, then."

Harry and Hermione followed him out of the clearing, staring over their shoulders at Ronan and Bane until the trees blocked their view. Hermione felt something ominous about this night.

"Never," said Hagrid irritably, "try an' get a straight answer out of a centaur. Ruddy stargazers. Not interested in anythin' closer'n the moon."

"Are there many of them in here?" asked Hermione.

"Oh, a fair few. Keep themselves to themselves mostly, but they're good enough about turnin' up if ever I want a word. They're deep, mind, centaurs, they know things, jus' don' let on much."

"D'you think that was a centaur we heard earlier?" said Harry.

"Did that sound like hooves to you? Nah, if yeh ask me, that was what's bin killin' the unicorns, never heard anythin' like it before."

They walked on through the dense, dark trees. The hairs on the back of Hermione's were erected and pricked her skin, a sign telling her that they were being watched. Harry noticed it too. He was constantly looking nervously over his shoulder. The fool. He was practically tell the stalker that he knew they were being followed. They had just passed a bend in the path when Hermione saw something in the air and grabbed Hagrid's arm.

"Hagrid! Look! Red sparks, the others are in trouble!"

"You two wait here!" Hagrid shouted. "Stay on the path, I'll come back for yeh!"

They heard him crashing away through the undergrowth and stood looking at each other, very scared, until they couldn't hear anything but the rustling of leaves around them.

_Oh, yes. Leave a group of child by themselves in a forest filled with deadly creatures_. Hermione thought sarcastically.

"You don't think they've been hurt, do you?" whispered Hermione, worried about both.

"I don't care if Malfoy has, but if something's got Neville, it's our fault he's here in the first place."

At last, a great crunching noise announced Hagrid's return. Draco, Neville, and Fang were with him. Hagrid was fuming. Draco had sneaked up behind Neville and grabbed him as a joke. Neville had panicked and sent up the sparks.

"We'll be lucky ter catch anythin' now, with the racket you two were makin'. Right, we're changin' groups. Neville, you stay with me an' Hermione, Harry, you go with Fang an' this idiot. I'm sorry," Hagrid added in a whisper to Harry, "but he'll have a harder time frightenin' you, an' we've gotta get this done."

Hermione didn't feel right about leaving Harry and Draco alone. What if whatever that was following them earlier still was? It could Quirrell or Snape, hiding and waiting to kidnap Harry. She wasn't worried about Draco as she was about Harry. If something were to ambush them, Draco would run like mad, screaming like a girl. He'll be safe. Harry, being a brave fool, on the other hand would stay and attempt to fight the intruder and possible die.

It didn't take long for her to hear Draco's familiar screams.

"AAAAAAAAAARGH!"

He was likely running for his life by now and Harry must still be there. Greatly concerned for both boys, Hermione ran toward the direction of the screams.

"Harry! Harry, are you all right?" she shouted as soon as she saw him with Firenze. She glanced left and right looking for any sign of Draco.

"I'm fine," said Harry, "The unicorn's dead, Hagrid, it's in that clearing back there."

"This is where I leave you," Firenze murmured as Hagrid hurried off to examine the unicorn. "You are safe now."

Harry slid off his back.

"Good luck, Harry Potter," said Firenze. "The planets have been read wrongly before now, even by centaurs. I hope this is one of those times." He turned and cantered back into the depths of the forest.

When they returned to the common room, Ron had fallen asleep in the dark corner, waiting for them to return. He shouted something about Quidditch fouls when Harry roughly shook him awake. In a matter of seconds, though, he was wide-eyed as Harry began to tell him and Hermione what had happened in the forest. Harry couldn't sit down. He paced up and down in front of the fire. He was still shaking.

"Snape wants the stone for Voldemort, and Voldemort's waiting in the forest, and all this time we thought Snape just wanted to get rich."

"Stop saying the name!" said Ron in a terrified whisper, as if he thought Voldemort could hear them.

Harry wasn't listening.

"Firenze saved me, but he shouldn't have done so, Bane was furious, he was talking about interfering with what the planets say is going to happen. They must show that Voldemort's coming back, Bane thinks Firenze should have let Voldemort kill me. I suppose that's written in the stars as well."

"Will you stop saying the name!" Ron hissed.

"So all I've got to wait for now is Snape to steal the Stone," Harry went on feverishly, "then Voldemort will be able to come and finish me off. Well, I suppose Bane'll be happy."

Hermione looked very frightened, but she had a word of comfort.

"Harry, everyone says Dumbledore's the only one You-Know-Who was ever afraid of with Dumbledore around, You-Know-Who won't touch you. Anyway, who says the centaurs are right? It sounds like fortune-telling to me, and Professor McGonagall says that's a very imprecise branch of magic."

Saying goodnight to the boys, Hermione went into the bathroom in the girls' dormitory and paced back and forth in her. Lavender saw her and followed. She locked the door and place a silencing spell in the room. She leaned against the door, her sympathetic eyes following Hermione.

"What's wrong with me?" said Hermione. "I can't think clearly anymore. Normally, I would have figured everything by now. My thoughts, my mind…they, they aren't – as sharp as before!"

Lavender straightened. "You're under loads of stress. Maybe the pressured has got to you? With all that's happened…the sudden change in pace and –and the hormones. It must be hindering your thought process."

Hermione stopped her pacing and turned to Lavender. "Stress? Hormones?" she echoed as if she had just been insulted.

Gathering her courage, Lavender left the door and turned Hermione to face a large mirror on the wall. "Look at yourself, Ly Ly. I should be happy for you. You're finally expressing yourself, but…this. It worries me."

Hermione stared at her reflection. Eyes hard, cheeks flushed with emotions. This was not her. This was not Lyra Lestrange. It was a stranger – no! It was Hermione Granger. Hermione Granger was trying to destroy her!

"Ly Ly?" said Lavender, attempting to reach her friend, who seemed lost in a trance. "Lyra?"

Hermione blinked. "I must kill her."

Lavender stiffened. "What? Kill who? Who are you planning to kill?"

"Hermione Granger, the Muggle-Born. She's trying to destroy me. I have to kill her before she swallows me whole." Hermione hissed.

"Herm-Lyra, no! You're – you're – Hermione isn't trying to destroy you." Lavender reasoned.

Hermione was having a mental breakdown and she was trying her best to calm her.

Lavender grasped both of Hermione's arms and turned her, so they'd face each other. Lavender roughly shook her and then cupped her face. "Lyra, please listen to me. Hermione Granger isn't real. She's not trying to destroy you. You created her. She isn't real."

"She's not real." Hermione repeated.

"Yes, she's not. You're probably tired. Let's go to bed." Lavender suggested. "You'll feel better in the morning."

Hermione nodded. They left the bathroom and went to their room. Lavender peeked at Hermione, watching the back of her head closely. She wished her friend wasn't facing the other way. The episode she had earlier was disturbing. She needed to see Hermione's face, know that she was all right.

Hermione pulled the sheets over her body and murmured. "Not real...I don't have to kill her."

She caught her reflection on the window and glared at it.

_I'll kill you if you try._ Mouthed the reflection.

_Let's see who'll win, Mudblood._ Hermione replied.

_How dare it challenge her…_

* * *

_Sorry for not updating in a while and yes...Lyra is losing her grip on reality.  
_


End file.
